When Calls the Muse
by prosemeds
Summary: Prompted from tumblr or randomly inspired one shots. Generally rated T, but be mindful of reading A/N or Prefaces.
1. Just For Tonight

Why was he nervous? He was the one who asked her to come. She was the one who had to deal with a hundred or more complete strangers. Yet he shook and fidgeted in his suit, constantly readjusting his wine colored tie and his polished cuff links as he walked into her building.

Perhaps his anxiety had to do with the impression he wanted to make. It had been a few years now since he'd seen all the Rodgers, especially those over in New Jersey. His baby cousin Angela was getting married, and the rest of the clan used the wedding as a big reunion.

Martha harped on him, of course, making sure he'd actually attend and while there, save his face. Many of the members of the Rodgers family made a point to compete with each other, especially with Rick after his writer success. Some of them didn't quite measure up professionally, but most of his cousins were settled, often married with kids, whereas he kept two divorces under his belt. He needed some strength there in that department.

And that's exactly why he followed through with his knock on Kate's door.

He asked her only a few days ago, last minute and penalizing him a little bit she lingered on her decision, but with a touch of begging she eventually agreed. Now he stood at her door, contemplating whether or not he made the right decision.

"I'm almost ready," she said opening the door, barely taking a look at him. She darted around the apartment as he walked in, eyes obviously locked on her, all of her, from her intricate bun that helped to expose her glow, her beaming face, to the drapes of her dress and her shear wrap spilling across the floor. She slipped in her earrings and grabbed her coat hanging over the couch before she looked up, meeting sharp blues staring her down, causing her to stop abruptly.

Good decision. So right.

"What—what's wrong?" She asked. As surprised as she was at his look, she found herself assessing him as well, appreciating how he filled his suit. In the face of this situation, both of them danced lightly, cautiously, still feeling out the moves they had to do…or wanted to do.

"No-no," he replied, still struggling to look away, "nothing wrong there." A weak smile formed along her lips, half embarrassed, half giddy. He grinned wide and let out a soft laugh. "We match."

"Oh I'm sorry, did you not want to? Is that too couple-y?"

He reached out for her hand, and though reluctant, she took it. "In tonight's case, that's exactly what we need."

—-

On the drive to the wedding, he prepped her through the story he prepared for the night. She would be his girlfriend of a little over a year—she threw him quite the look when he proposed the idea, but he continually stressed that it was just for the night—and that they were a strong, steady couple. With every detail he constructed, she couldn't help but laugh at the idea, but he pleaded each time in response.

"It's not like I'm asking you to be my wife," he said.

She looked at him with raised brows, one arm folded in and the other upright to hold her head in her hands. "Are you saying I wouldn't be a good wife?"

"What?" he asked. The alarm in his voice entertained her, but she maintained composure to keep the act on.

"You sayin' I couldn't be your wife? Am I not good enough?"

He looked back and forth at her and the road trying to appease her. "No-no I just didn't think you would—I didn't want you to feel—"

No longer able to hold it in she bursted out, howling in delight as his relaxed into annoyance. In that moment, it occurred to him to challenge her. "You know what, you probably couldn't be my wife."

Soon enough her laughter died out and she just stared at him in disbelief. "Is that a dare?"

"If you wanna take it, yeah," he said. When he looked at her her lips were pursed, clearly trying to entertain the idea in her head. "Married two years. Just for tonight. One night."

"Fine," she started, "I can do that."

"Okay. We'll see."

"Yeah, you'll see," she muttered under her breath.

—-

It wasn't until the reception when they could really showcase themselves as a married couple. Many people took notice to them, not just for Rick's fame, but also largely for Kate. Elegant as she looked, taking the dance floor she especially stunned many people—several stared while they danced, even those on the floor with them.

"A lot of people are staring," Kate whispered to him as they danced. He twirled her out and back in, her back to him and their arms folded together, their bodies swaying along, singing with the motions in unison.

"Because you're beautiful," he said, almost a-matter-of-fact-ly.

"You think so?" she said.

"Of course. I also think there are a lot of other beautiful women here and you're lucky that we're married for the night."

He turned her out and in again so she could face him, and he watched her shake her head while she suppressed a smile.

Though they spent most of the night together, at times they separated, often pulled aside by others. Friends. Family. Both carried their own anxieties of what they would say to everyone—even if none of it was real. They'd eye each other across waves of people, checking in on where the other was and what they were doing. Kate took the opportunity to make him twitch, giving the idea that maybe she'd relay something embarrassing, truthful or not, just for fun. She teased him the whole night—and that possibly made their act more believable.

At one point during the night, the bride, Rick's baby cousin pulled Kate aside. Somewhat startled, a choke settled in Kate's throat, worried about what to say. This girl grew up with him—what if she said the wrong thing? Something out of character, or untrue to him?

"You're Kate right?" Angela asked. Kate only nodded, seeing how eager the young girl was to continue. "I just wanted to formally introduce myself, I'm Angie. I can't believe I'm only meeting you now!"

Kate reached for words in her head, trying to remember the story her and Rick built throughout the night. "Yeah I know, me too. Rick's told me about you but it's been a while."

"I don't blame him, it's been forever since we've seen each other or talked. He's still my big brother though. He took care of me a lot when I was younger. I never had anyone look after me as much as he did."

Angie was a talker. She proceeded to tell all kinds of stories about her childhood with him, how he taught her different things and how he helped her through family struggles. If the stories had been about anyone else, she might've toned her out, but it was interesting to learn these things about him…to see his layers from someone else's view…fresh eyes.

"Well we're both very happy for you," Kate said, trying to end the conversation. The champagne had descended well into her system and she was more than ready for a trip to the restroom. As much as she liked the stories, she hoped Angie was finished.

"I'm happy for you two also," Angie responded. "I'm glad to know he's found someone to finally watch over him. It's obvious how much you care for each other. It was lovely finally meeting you," she finished with a hug. Her words received through Kate's head like a church bell, and with it, a tiny pang of ache shook her inside.

Releasing the embrace, she darted for the bathroom, half concentrated on relieving herself, half distracted by the words still ringing in her ears. It was a strange feeling. Difficult almost. More difficult than her struggle to use the toilet while wearing her weighted dress. Which proved actually very difficult.

It took her a minute to compose herself again before going out. She looked in the mirror and saw the stress in her face. Why? Why feel this way? She sighed a little bit trying to release this tension in her, shaking her head of the fuzziness going on. When she exited the bathroom, she scanned the room for him, and saw his back turned away, talking to someone over by the bar. Not wanting to interrupt, she inched her way over, slow in her steps to mute the click of her heels so as not to disturb. When she neared, she saw him talking to another man, someone of some stature, and visibly older than him. She tried to keep her distance, but she still overheard their conversation.

"She seems like a model lady," the man said. "Not anyone that should be with you though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rick's voice edged, his tone offering a sense of threat to whatever the response would be.

"You sure she's with you for you? She seems almost too wonderful. Surely there's something wrong somewhere there." Kate felt the pinch. For herself, and for him too.

"She's not that person. She's loyal. She's braved a lot in her life, and it's a privilege to be beside her every day. She's so—giving and her heart is just—" he exhaled heavy, noting the unchanging face on the man before him. "She's perfect, so excuse yourself." The pinch loosened, a smile hung from her lips as she continued to listen.

"You said that about Meredith. As you did Gina. Please enlighten me again on what happened to both of those marriages."

"She's not them," Rick said. His undertone was so foreign to her ears. Defensive, clearly, but he sounded sincere…true to his word. "I promise you she's not. But I don't have to prove to you anything, no matter what you'll always be critical of it, my choices, my life."

"I've only wanted what's best for you Richard, you know that. Your mother does that but you need a father figure to also."

"Well you're not my father, so don't you worry about me. I know what's best for me. If you can't see that then this conversation is over."

Realizing he'd walk her way, she darted inward behind a pillar, avoiding his sight by a mere second. She watched him stalk off the other way, but waited, taking a minute or so before going back to their table.

When she arrived he did also, coming from the bride and grooms table, giving her some time to look more casual, and remove the ambivalence spread across her face. When he walked over to her, he looked worn, his face slightly sagging as he grabbed for his glass of champagne for a quick sip to perk him up.

"You wanna head out?" He asked when he set the glass back down.

"Whenever you're ready, are you okay to drive?"

"I'll be fine." His tone was flat, his usual excitement subdued. She knew he wasn't fine.

"You wanna say goodbye to your mom first?"

"She'll be fine. Her principle at these things is, 'I see you every day, don't bother me.' I just said goodbye to Angie, that's all who needs it."

Nodding with a meek smile, they walked out to travel back home, both overwhelmed with the events of the night.

—-

Much of the ride was silent, but they kept the radio going to fill it. She almost wanted to bring up the man she saw him talk to, but she knew she couldn't. She'd wait for him to move first. He eventually did when he remembered seeing her talk to Angie.

"She loves you you know, Angie. Practically raved about you when I went to say goodbye."

She just cocked half a grin, amused at the thought. "We barely talked. Well I barely talked, she went on and on about you."

Finally cracking his lips open, his eyes thinned and lips widened, a chuckle escaping him. "Should I be sorry she did that? Were you absolutely tired of her by the third story?"

Taking into consideration what he endured, she decided to lift him up a little…well deserved and needed boost. "No actually. It was actually interesting. You always tell the stories, and it was nice to hear a few about you…especially the mango story."

"I can't believe she told you that," he said immediately. "She told you that?"

"I don't think she thought anything of it, she thinks I'm your wife. Nothing would be too personal, you know?" She said with a laugh. He just shook his head, just thinking on the night as she did too. After a moment, she brought up the fall out between them. "How come you haven't seen her or talked in so long?"

His mouth thinned out, breathing in and out of his nose almost as if to calm himself, to prepare the words without poisoning himself inside as he thought it out. "It's her father, my uncle. I actually talked to him tonight—I had no plans to. It just happened. Our relationship is—rough. Growing up we disagreed on a lot of things. His intentions are there but he lacks skills as a father figure…even to Angie. That was a problem before, still kind of is."

"Well…at least you didn't pick up whatever badness he has."

"How do you mean?"

"It's just—I don't know," she said, pushing forth effort to sound aloof. "The way she loves you—the way Alexis loves you. For a guy without a father, you're a pretty good one. Really good one."

"Thank you," he said. A constant surprise, Kate Beckett. She didn't know just how thankful he was that she said that.

Kate rolled in her lips, thinking back to all the things she heard the man say…what Rick said in response. All of it, everything was overwhelming. She wasn't sure how to react to all of it. Then again, it was just for tonight. Just one night.

"And thank you," Rick started, "for being here tonight—for pulling through this whole thing." He turned to face her with easy eyes, gazing a little longer than he realized.

"That's what partners do right? It was fun anyhow, like playing house. Just one request?"

"What's that?"

She let out a laugh to lighten her words. "Never again."

—-

"You're home already?" Rick asked. When he entered the loft, he found Martha kicked back on the couch with a glass of wine, still in her wedding clothes.

"You know darling I'm starting to think you're right. I feel utterly exhausted of seeing all those Rodgers again. Don't get me wrong I had a marvelous time, but I am truly beat."

He set his coat over one of the chairs and walked over to kiss her on the cheek and take a seat next to her. "It wasn't all too bad I must admit," he said sitting back. Martha's lips widened.

"Of course you'd think that dear, you had the lovely Katherine Beckett on your arm tonight. She was a hit with the family, you know that? I had no idea you two planned that marriage thing out. Perfect!"

"Yeah…it was." He was absent, clearly musing aloud in his head, half aware that his mother was still there.

"It was very believable you know. Anyone who knew the truth might be inclined to believe there are underlying inspirations for that performance you two did," she said. He sensed her tone. She teased, but she sought for truth also. Yet, he wasn't sure he knew it completely himself.

"We just had fun. Just fun. Just for the night."


	2. The Ways to Stay Alive

Preface: Taking a risk here. I don't know how to classify this. Some hurt/comfort? Angst. Sad, but hopeful. Castle comes home trying to surprise Beckett with a "just-because" fancy dinner, but the world stops when he sees what she's doing.

—

A Friday night undisturbed suited a nice dinner well, and that's exactly what Castle had planned for the evening. Martha was due for a night out with theatre buddies so she wouldn't be dropping by; Alexis left for the library with friends to drill her brains for her finals; so, the two of them would be alone…well alone, plus Jillian. But she'd be fast asleep by the time he'd get in anyway.

After picking up groceries along with their favorite wine, he bolted home to his girls. He hoped Beckett had put Jillian down to for bed, and that the rest of the night would go undisturbed.

Mindful of this when he walked in, he kept himself quiet, just in case the little one was still trying to fall sleep. He slipped the key in and opened the door with caution, careful to minimize any noise he made. Yet when he moved further in, he realized Beckett was talking but he had a difficult time discerning her words.

Setting the groceries on the couch, he motioned toward her voice, realizing she was upstairs in the baby's room. Curious he still kept his presence silent, and treaded up the stairs effortfully closing in on his wife's voice. When he reached the top of the staircase, he peaked in the room and saw Beckett in front of their video camera, clearly recording herself talking.

"…Mommy was so scared," he heard her say. She sniffled a little, moving her hands in front of her face, flicking away the apparent constant fall of tears. "I told daddy all the time. He told me things would be okay, that I would do great. He convinced me every day, all those months waiting for you. But I couldn't shake the fear. I didn't wanna do wrong by you baby. It didn't occur to me at the time what it would be like.

"But…when you were born? You changed everything. You changed me, how I felt. You gave me strength I didn't have before. I was still scared about raising you, but daddy was there to keep tellin' me we were gonna be great, that we were doing fine. And I just—I remember holding you in my arms, and I laughed while crying because I was so happy. So happy. I realized how easy it was, how easy it would be, because right then I fell in love with you. I fell in love with every part of you. Every day I still do. I love you more and more. That's what kept me goin', dad and you. I just want you to know that. I love you, my Jillybee. Always. Me and daddy love you with everything in us. So…I need you to do something for me.

"Daddy is a wonderful man. And I wish I could be there to tell you all the great things he's done. He is the best man I have ever known, and he always will be. So…I need you to take care of him. Do that for mommy. Don't let him change, don't let him stop going, make sure he's happy." At this point, Castle didn't realize the flow of tears down his cheeks, collecting into the collar of his shirt, soaking it. He paid no attention. His head was empty, only processing these painful words spilling out of his wife. Her heart overflowed, gushing out every raw feeling she had been holding inside. He knew them well, and he ached at how they changed her voice, drenching every word into an earnest plea. "And please—love him. Don't ever forget to love him. Care for him. Love him even if it one day becomes hard to…because he deserves it. For reasons you may or may not find out someday. Do that for me."

Evidently unable to go on, she walked up to the recorder and stopped it, and he saw the wetness and redness of her face as she tried to compose herself. Stepping into the room, his own eyes rimmed red, she looked up at him, eyes widened and mouth dropped. His face looked more pained in the light, the details of sorrow clearer as he walked toward her and yanked her into a tight embrace.

"Sweetheart what is this," he whispered roughly into her hair. His voice dragged, stressing to her his contempt. He ran a hand over her head as she tried to speak.

"I'm sorry," she started. He let go of her and they sat down on the rocking chair, Beckett cradled in his lap. "I didn't realize you'd be home that fast."

"Why, is this a regular thing every Friday night I come home late?" He had more body to his voice, which inadvertently got her to crack a smile before answering.

"No…I just…For the last week I've been dreaming about mom, a lot. More than usual."

"Oh," he said. The simplicity in his tone implied his understanding of where she would go with this.

"It's not even sad dreams either, you know? We're happy, together, just talking about everything. But I just think…every conversation in those dreams, they're my own ideas of what I wanted to know from her. The advice, stories, all the anecdotes. I think of everything we lost and I just wonder…if she knew she would leave that early, what would she have said beforehand. The last things she'd say to me."

"So you decided to do…this?"

"I wanted to, yeah. Just think about it. The work we've done…it puts us at risk. Grudges with others, plenty of others, with some pissed enough to seek retribution. I'm not saying I don't feel safe, but I won't be naive enough to believe something can't happen to us. I just want her to know…everything I said on the video. She deserves it. She deserves to know those things even if one day I can no longer tell her myself. I want to do this for her."

"This is…you know I want to support you in everything you do but this, it's morbid."

"Yes, fine, but it's not crazy, Rick, it's not. Are you telling me you're not scared to leave her behind? To leave Alexis behind?"

"Of course I'm scared but—" he paused a moment, musing on the idea to find the right words to ease her. "I guess I just believe that we've been through so much already—there's nothing else out there that we can't handle should something arise. My faith in us is—" he whistled while raising his up far above them before bringing it back down over their hands.

"I know…we've come through the unthinkable, hell and back. But I just wanna be prepared. I don't want her to experience what I did with my mom."

"She won't. I'm telling you. Come here," he said as they got up. They walked over to the crib and he picked up their little girl, laying her in his arms. She looked at peace. She didn't even stir. "You save that footage. Keep it locked up. But look at her," he said. She leaned into him, one arm around his waist and her other hand rested on Jillian's chest. "I have faith in us. We've made it this far, decently far if I might add, and now we have this little ity-bity person. A little girl with your eyes and my smile…who's gonna be just like you. And me. But better, because we're gonna be here to show her how. That is our next thing to handle, to get through. And if the tough part will be to stay alive for it, then we'll do it."

She tucked her face into his neck and under his jaw, absorbing all the words exchanged between them. She knew he was right, but a part of her couldn't bring herself to toss the tape. "I just wish mom had done something like this for me…for the hard times and the fun times she had to miss."

"She didn't have to," he started, beginning to hand over the sleeping child to her. She looked down at her and then back up at him with polished eyes as he wrapped his arms around both of them. "Your mother lives in you. Like you will in our baby girl. We're gonna raise her up, like parents do, trying to do the right thing and not completely screw her up—" he paused, waiting for her smile to peek out before continuing. "And we'll always be a part of her. She won't be rid of us, ever. In the way she walks, the way she talks, the way she thinks, the way she sings. Your mother lives on in you like you will in her. She hasn't missed a thing. Neither will we."

And in that moment, Jillian reached out for her mom's finger, clutching her tightly as if to reassure her she was there…and that she loved her.

She already loved her with all of her might.


	3. Angel of Mine

Prompt response from the tums. Kate lulls baby castle to sleep with a song (song by MYMP)

—

Two in the morning. Two hours past the time Rick wanted to be in bed. He lingered for a bit after finishing up a chapter, grabbing a glass of wine, but unable to snatch even a sip once he heard Luke stirring upstairs.

Reacting quickly, trying to avoid Kate waking up to his cries over the monitor, he darted in leaps upstairs to his son's aid. Inside the room Luke sobbed and sobbed, arms reaching out the moment he saw his father hovering above him.

"Hey buddy, what's wrong," Rick said lifting up his son. He bounced him in place assessing the cry the little boy gave off. No hunger, no diaper change. Definitely a sleepy cry.

So why wouldn't he sleep?

A couple minutes shortly turned into half an hour, and despite the short intervals between his cries, Luke still wouldn't get to sleep.

"You gotta help me out bud. You need to sleep. I need to sleep. Mommy needs to sleep and if you keep going she'll probably wake up."

"Too late," Kate said appearing in the doorway. He turned around and saw her walk toward him, making eyes at their son, going to caress his face and head. "Hey baby boy—what's the matter huh," she said taking him in her arms. Though his cries continued, they were mostly hushed, changing with the bounce in her step.

"Okay, is it a boob thing? Is he more calmed by you because you are the food giver? Do I need to get one of those man boob slings like in Meet the Fockers?"

"Babe he loves you, he just—isn't a fan of how you put him to sleep."

At the thought, he recalled back to when they both put him to bed. She didn't do it. "You didn't sing to him, did you?" He asked with folded arms. He stared her down, but she kept her face behind the child, humming into his head, turning around as she bounced to avert her eyes from her husband's. "You didn't!" He whispered harsh. She turned to face him with her mouth dropped and eyebrows furrowed, almost offended.

"I did," she whispered back insistent, though hiding her face even more. He cocked an eyebrow and flattened his lips. "Okay you know what, you try singing to him every night, and then expect to have a voice the next day. Espo and Ryan have had way too much fun over my sore and cracking voice—and I can't even yell at them because of it."

"You know I've tried…you also know how unsuccessful that was. I'd help…but I don't think either of us want a night like that again." His eyes widened at her. She started to smile, but he pointed a finger at her. "Do not laugh," he said. Her lips shifted around, trapping the laughter in her throat, translated into a choke.

"I just thought I could get away with one night," she started. "It was just one night…" She looked down at her baby boy, his eyes almost expectant. Her heart slipped further inside her, pouted at him and then at Rick.

"Based off that look, clearly one night is far too many for him," he said taking a seat in the rocking chair. She threw him a look, with a sigh escaping her before she began to sing.

When I first saw ya, I already knew There was something inside of you Something I thought I'd never find Angel of mine

The corners of Luke's lips turned up, exposing his mouth, as if ready to laugh, but he stayed silent. She glanced over at Rick with a smile and glistening eyes, and it beckoned him over. As she held their son, he held them both, swaying them to the melody. It filled the room, made it whole in a way he couldn't explain. Like her voice warmed them, along with the air, enveloping every inch with every note. It made Luke settle fast as he listened to his mother, his eyes droopy and head heavy, but still remained linked up to her gaze.

I look at you, looking at me Now I know why they say the best things are free I'm gonna love you till the end of time Angel of mine

The little one started to fade away, but she kept going, more hushed, with her head now rested into Rick's neck as they continued their slow steps.

What you mean to me you'll never know Deep inside I need to show

You came into my life sent from above Never did I dream such a perfect love And I'll adore you till the end of time Angel of mine

From this point she just hummed the tune, and soon enough Luke was drooling all over her clavicle. Rick looked over to see, and he stopped them. He smiled at the sight of his sleeping child, and kissed his forehead, then Kate's. Just as he went to grab him, she slightly pulled back, her face pouting again and eyes rounded out.

"Just a little longer," she said. She walked into him and he put his arms around her again, swaying them side to side and back and forth again. All their heartbeats synched together, soothed by the motions—their blood flowing in rhythms together, orchestrated by their love.

"Just like this…"

He pressed his face over the top of her head and breathed, "angels of mine."


	4. Color Me With Love

Prompt response (altered). Caskett paints one of the rooms upstairs preparing for a baby castle. This was really different than I pictured it, especially the last part xD

—

"You're a stunner in those," Castle said with a grin when he watched his wife walk in wearing painters pants. He sat against the wall with his knees pulled up, arms hanging over them as he admired her walk. The light from the opened window shined over her, illuminating her more than she already was as she went toward him shaking her head, suppressing a smile.

"Shut up," she managed, still controlling her lips. He stood up when she reached him, taking her by the waist, turning her, assessing her body in the outfit while she rolled her eyes and laid her arms flat on her side.

"I mean it, sexy, sexy, sexy. Wear those to bed tonight—" She hit his arm playfully, stopping him and evoking laughs from both of them before they turned to scope out the empty room before them.

"Is it too early to be doin' this?" she asked looking around.

"You kidding? You wanna do this after your first trimester?"

"Point taken," she said stepping toward the paint canisters. For a second she didn't realize how many there were. "What happened to narrowing it down?" She said eyeing him with a cocked brow. It was like a criminal line up, but instead an array of pastels lined up against the wall.

"I figured it'd be easier to decide once we went to paint. I'll just open whichever you want to use," he said kneeling down next to the line up. "What do ya think hon?"

"Blue first," she said thoughtfully. "Then we'll see where this goes."

After popping off the lid and slipping on some glasses, Beckett took to the walls, slow and steady as her hand drew up and down along them, sometimes curving, creating a motion in the paint, like water overflowing. When she finally dipped down to soak her brush again, she turned her head to look at Castle, who hadn't so much as blotted the other wall, instead stood and gazed upon her with a smile and pleased eyes through his glasses.

"Are ya kidding," she said stepping off a tiny stool. "You're letting the pregnant lady do all the work?" She said going towards him. Just as he went to open his mouth, she took her brush and swiped his cheek, careful to miss his mouth. He froze on contact, his lips agape with slight shock as she let her laughter loose. Without a second thought he held her neck, and rubbed his cheek along hers, scrubbing the blue into her skin. She laughed even harder as his head shook back and forth, thoroughly coating her cheek and jawline.

So it began, a paint war, swiping of brushes across each other, popping open the other paints and chucking handfuls across the room. Colors soared through the air, and soon enough more paint covered their bodies and the floor than any of the walls. They instead wore just threads of paint and spatters, but no spot looked fully coated except for Beckett's patch of blue.

When they stopped running around, carefully Castle snatched her up, taking her by the legs and hoisted her over his shoulder. The surprise triggered a reflex, and her hand flew down to slap his butt in protest, one cheek now stained with a yellow handprint.

To counter her, he grabbed a handful of paint and soaked both of her cheeks, before pressing them against the wall to leave a print. He walked backwards cautious of her still slung over his shoulder, and turned his head from side to side to examine the mark.

"Babe no," she started, giggling breathlessly. "Were not gonna leave it like that!"

"Of course not," he said setting her down, stacking her up against the wall. "We'll turn it into a heart later."

Beckett bent down to pick up a rag and went to wipe his face clean. He proceeded to wipe hers, followed by his hands, then tossed the rag aside, and ran his hand through her hair to end at the base of her neck.

"We barely touched the walls," she said. She looked around to judge their work, but he just stared at her, his other hand propped on the wall to support him up over her. "I like it though. Even if we wasted all this paint."

"Did you have fun?" She only gave him a smile in response. "Then we wasted nothing," he said with tender eyes.

Reaching in for a kiss, he set his free hand over her abdomen, securing it nicely in his palm. Somehow it warmed their lips more as she went to set her hand over his. She pulled his body into her and she felt safe, secure…at home.

Releasing, she held his face close to hers and breathed her words over his lips. "Baby loves the room—but now wants a bubble bath to get all cleaned up."

"Is that so?" he asked, his interest peaked. "You sure that's baby, or is that mommy?"

"Baby wants to get cleaned up…but mommy doesn't mind staying kinda dirty," she said. Her voice purred over his ears, eyes slowing, daring, and enticing.

"Tell baby not to worry," he said sweeping her up, "daddy will take care of everything."


	5. No Matter What Happens

Takes place somewhere in the middle of season 6 pre Veritas.

—-

3:14 a.m.

It must've been the sheets. Perhaps the late cup of coffee contributed too. Maybe she just needed a warmth bath. Then again this was the fourth night in a row, conscious far longer than she could bear. Asleep for three hours, then up till dawn. Four nights. She would've done anything at this point just to get even one more hour of sleep.

She looked up at the ceiling, physically pained with the thoughts trickling out of her, escaped from some leaking jar in her mind specifically made to store these things away. She wasn't sure if these thoughts haunted her to wake, or if her lack of sleep permitted them to break free. They washed over her face, keeping her more aware of them than she had been in a long time.

Breaths dragged out and near quiet, the silence of the room, the loft, all of it teased her. Her thoughts became vocal, whispering to her threats and promises, reminding her of her darker hours and that there would be more to come. Her chest sank deeper and deeper as visions of blood, death, tears, and more silence crept over her as a veil, now preventing any room to see anything else. Her stomach turned, the strength in her limbs pulling inward in a strain and collapsing, along with her ability to breathe properly.

It didn't take long for Rick to wake beside her during her fit. Several moments passed before she could feel his hands on her, trailing her skin with his fingertips to assess it, look for any sign of physical danger. Thereafter he sought for her mental danger, taking a hold of her neck and tugging her face to his to bring her back. He repeated her name over and over, but she couldn't respond just yet. She rested her hands on his when he moved them to her cheeks, in attempt to dry the skin she hadn't realized now dripped, a soaked canvas of different pains. Exhausted, her forehead collapsed on his, and she fought for air, dragging each try. He held her still, supporting her up, sensing how limp, how weakened her body became.

"I'm sorry," she managed after a moment. He shook his head over and over, reassuring her with a hand wiping over her face. Before any of them could continue he pulled her into an embrace, pressing himself fully into and around her, careful to link every crevice, mending her and cradling her with his warmth.

"What happened?" He asked when he let her go, pulling up her bowed head. Her skin just hung, and something inside him fell, continued to fall, endlessly, a well of pain edging deeper and deeper the longer he stared at her.

"It's everything," she started. She swallowed and exhaled a broken breath. "I've been like this for last few days."

"Tell me about it, you've barely slept."

"You knew?"

"The first night it happened, I knew. When you didn't say anything the first day I figured it was a bad night and that was that. When it happened again, I wasn't sure to bring it up or not. Last night, you remember, you were too pissed about Gates to talk at all before bed. Now, well, here we are."

A faint grin set on her lips, but it faded away as she gathered words to explain herself. Where could she start? Was there a beginning, a starting source to this? "I've just been overthinking I guess, about everything. I've been thinking about my mom, about the wedding, about Bracken…it's—it's these little things that occur to me, you know? What if we never get to him? What if all that we've done, all that we've been through, all the people we've dealt with to get to this point, to him, what if we don't get him? How am I supposed to live with that, Rick? How are we supposed to go on with our lives constantly haunted by all of this? Will I ever be relieved? Will you be able to deal with me and all that comes with this? I don't know that I can do that to you, make you take on all my baggage—"

He shook his head again, this time more vigorously, maintaining a lock on her eyes, unblinking and focused.

"First of all, you're forgetting who your fiancé is. I'm me. And you know who me is. Do you _really_ think we're going to let your mother's case get tucked away again? Do you really think I will let that happen? And second of all…do you know me? You do remember this right—"

He reached across her to pull out the drawer, and reached in for the chest that held her chain of Johanna's ring, and the engagement ring. He took them in his hands gingerly, securing one in his hand and the other held in front of her face.

"What does this mean to you?" He asked, his voice lowered, the words leaving his lips swiftly to caress her heart. She bit her lip, mindful of the what to say, but hesitant to say it. "I love you, Kate. I love you when we're laughing together late at night before we sleep. I love you in the morning when you first get up and out of bed. I love you when you're working and I see how focused you are. I love you when you're skeptical of my ideas, when you're surprised by them, and when you entertain them because you trust me. I love you when we're fighting about what time we agreed to be ready for dinner. I love you when you're awake, when you're sleep, when I see you, when I don't see you. Every day I find new ways to love you, more reasons to love you. And I haven't stopped from the first time I told you. I'm not sure it's possible that I can even do that.

"Your baggage is a part of you. None of it is easy, but it doesn't make me love you less. It's more, if anything. That's what this ring means. I didn't promise to marry you. I mean I did—but that's not everything. I promised that—it's you. I promised that it's you I will love, all of you, always, for the rest of my life. No matter what happens."

Kate batted her eyes as he spoke, swatting away more tears in her lashes. She took him by the neck, hands secured on each side, her thumbs rubbing the skin in affection. She couldn't help the tremble in her voice or the dryness from holding back tears. She could only manage a broken, "I love you." With it she hooked her lips into his, out of a cocktail of gratitude and love and happiness.

After a moment and she released, he wrapped himself around her and lulled her to sleep, combing through her hair with his fingers. He kept his mouth on her forehead breathing her in and out, cleansing her mind of worry and doubt. Just before they both fell off the brink into slumber, she managed more words, through dragged words only their hearts could hear.

"Thank you for finding reasons to love me."

He smiled, and slightly bent his head to speak. "I don't need them."


	6. Our Girl is Good

"Sweetie you have to tell your father," Beckett said as she held onto Alexis's ankles at the foot of her bed, both feet propped up on Beckett's lap.

"Kate he's gonna flip, that's why I told you first." Alexis simultaneously threw up her hands in frustration and slapped them over her face, pulling her cheeks down to meet her chin. Beckett laughed a little, before crawling up next to her to lie down too. She didn't respond just yet, staring sideways to wait for a better response. "What do you think he'll say?"

Beckett looked at her and smiled first, as if that communicated the answer completely. Alexis just sighed in response. "He's not unreasonable. He might consider it if he sees how badly you want this. It just takes some convincing—which you've become astute in doing so." They both looked at each other and eventually Alexis broke her suppressed grin, playfully nudging into Beckett before they hooked arm in arm.

"What do you think about it?"

"Me? I think it's great. I do. You want to assert your independence, and there's nothing wrong with that. What I'm worried about is you being alone. It's a lot to take on, especially while going to school. You don't want someone else there to share the load of bills?"

"I mean…my whole life, dad's always taken care of me without problem. And I'm so grateful, but I want to know what it's like to support myself. I'll still be in the borough, but far enough that I can't run home at the first sign of trouble."

"You're sure?"

"I thought about it a lot. I wanna do this. I really wanna do this, Kate."

Beckett breathed out before sitting up in bed. She looked right at Alexis who fashioned some thoughtful eyes lost in the premise of her plans. "You talk to him, okay? If I need to push him or do damage control, I will."

Beckett inched herself off the bed, starting to walk out, but she stopped when Alexis called her name.

"Thank you," she said. Beckett walked back over to her to lock her arm around Alexis' neck and kiss her head.

"For you—?" Beckett left it in the air. Alexis knew what she meant. She didn't have to say anything more.

•••

Beckett had fallen asleep on the couch watching marathons of Temptation Lane after dinner. She stayed back after suggesting Castle take Alexis to go out for some ice cream and bring back more for her. Beckett had eyed Alexis just before they stepped out, encouraging her to open up to him, but she saw the dead in her face. Whatever happened would happen, but she would wait until something did, and rest well in the meantime.

Less than half an hour later she woke up to the front door opening and slamming shut, immediately facing a set of frustrated blue eyes and irritated blue eyes, both moving separate ways when they entered the loft. She wiped down her face and focused her eyes on Alexis, who looked back apologetic.

"I'm sorry," Alexis managed with some softness. Her eyes flicked back at her father and back at Beckett before she ascended the stairs. "But, I was right." Beckett closed her eyes and heaved out before turning her head to face him. She gave him a look and he looked the same back.

"You knew? She told you?" He asked, almost hurt. She walked towards him and he turned to go into their bedroom as she followed. "She told you before she told me?"

"I'm astounded that it's a surprise to you given how you're reacting right now," she said in a low voice. She had to ease to him the right way—she knew how flared he must've felt.

"She's still in school, and she's only twenty-two. She should not be living on her own."

"She just wants to be a little more independent. Why is that so terrible?" She took his hand and set him down on the bed, easing up his shoulders, resting her face on his clavicle. She let a few breaths pass by, trying to bring him down to a better state. "Do you really believe she's not ready, or are you not ready?" She asked. He didn't respond right away, holding onto the thought for as long as he could while she ran a hand over his head.

"I just don't see the point. She has a home here—"

"Yes, where she's secure, she's safe, where she's sheltered. But do you think that maybe that's not what she _wants_ anymore? That maybe she's ready for a different kind of challenge in her life?" He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, clearly focused on the words she said. He knew she was right. She knew he knew too. When he didn't respond she walked in front of him and bent down, grabbing and cradling his hands in hers. "If this was anyone else in the world I would agree that maybe it's not the time. But remember who we're talking about here. She's a brave, wise, tough girl…just like her dad." He made eyes at her and they both let out a snicker or two. "I know you believe in her like I do. You're just scared of what could happen or if she'll somehow get hurt. I fear that too, but you can't teach her that her wants should submit to her fears. And she wants this, Castle. Not to leave you, or start a life without you. Just to build onto her world."

She let the words sink in for several minutes. He looked different ways, contemplating on the idea. When she finally saw a release in his face, she took her hands to his cheeks and laid a kiss on his head as she stood up. He just rubbed her back with his hands before he nodded towards the door, a signifier for them to go talk to her. He motioned Beckett out and they walked to the room, knocking first before going in together.

"Can we talk?" Beckett started, functioning almost like the mediator. Alexis nodded and they walked in, Castle stood by and Beckett sat on the bed, helping them ease into it. "So your dad has something to say to you." Beckett looked up at him as if giving him the floor to speak, but he took his time. He moved his hands around and opened and closed his mouth before finding the right words to say.

"You are to distribute two keys to us, so we and grams can share. We will also accompany you in the search of finding said apartment and I personally, will need copies of the complex's blue prints. Unless you have a roommate, no one aside from us is allowed to access your apartment by themselves." He paused for a moment thinking of other conditions. "And a dog," he said snapping his finger.

"A dog?" Alexis asked with some alarm. "If I'm getting a dog it won't be some guard dog, it'll be my dog dog."

"Babe he basically just said yes, and I know I said you're a good persuader but do you really wanna go that route—" Beckett intervened. Alexis shook her head with a smile and plunged forward to attack her dad with a hug. She kissed his cheek with a thousand thank you's to follow, to him and then Beckett.

"I love you guys," Alexis said with a warm smile. Castle started to look around, his face contorted in a musing state as he scoped out the room.

"You know we could do so much with this room…we could fill it with all my gadgets we had to stick in storage when you moved in—" Castle started. He stopped himself when both girls looked at him with eyes glimmering with disapproval, coupled with folded arms to complement. "That looks like a no, is that a no?"

"You know I might just need my own key to crash with you some days."

"Mmmmhm," Alexis agreed.

Castle's face turned to innocence for aid. "What?"

•••

"You did good today," Castle said as he pulled back the sheets of the bed. He was looking over at Beckett still dressing into her night clothes, who exchanged a gleeful grin back at him.

"Yeah? You think so?"

"I do. You showed me up. Not bad for your first serious run. Compared to me at least."

A laugh escaped her effortlessly, like she were exhaling. She joined him in bed as she responded, "Oh, trust me, mama Castle's got a lot stored up for future runs. It makes it easier when your girl is so good," she said. He brought her to him lying on her stomach, rested her propped arms on his chest as she looked straight into his face.

"Ours," he said, dragging out the word happily. "_Our_ girl is so good." She held it back, but a set of tears peeked out under her eyes in her bottom lid, right before she dove to steal away a kiss. When she let go, he flipped her over, hovering her as he brushed her hair with his fingers. "I should probably thank mama Castle, huh?" He teased.

"You're thankful are you?" She asked.

Almost immediately after, he went for her neck, making his way down to her chest so swiftly. She smiled as the breaths escaped her, and she held onto his head. "Oh I'm very thankful, believe me," he said breathing over her skin. "Let me show you how thankful I am."

He maneuvered in such a way that triggered a choke in her breath, but it was muffled against the I love you's he sang in her mouth for the rest of the night.


	7. Don't Wake Me

Damn, already one o'clock? Had he really been writing that long? After dinner Rick set off to polish up his new story, promising Kate he'd only be a little while. Five hours later there he was, with still some work left to shape out his words.

In bed, Kate had been tossing and turning, half asleep as she tangled her limbs into the sheets, gradually removing every tucked corner and edge from the mattress. Sleeping like this reminded her too much of darker times, unsettling to her consciousness and even her body. Her rest remained shallow as long as she knew he was absent. Everything was cold. Too cold.

Frustrated, she got up, dragged herself with the sheets that clung around her, and walked out to his office, leaning against the shelves as she watched him maintain focus. It took a couple minutes before he realized she was there.

"I know, I'm sorry," he started. He gestured to the screen for blame but she waved her hand to dismiss him, walked forward, and rested her arm across his shoulders as she looked at the screen.

"How's it goin'?" She asked, her undertone groggy and weak.

"I got a lot done but I can't get this one part right," he said as he looked back at the screen. He sighed and turned to face her, a deep ache penetrating him when he saw the exhaustion caked on her face. "Come on, let's go to bed," he said, urging her as he stood up. She kept him down on the chair, shaking her head at him before kissing his cheek, then down to his chin, and then the base of his neck.

"Do what you gotta do, I just wanted to see how you were doin'. I'm gonna try to go back to bed," she said, starting to walk away. In a flickering thought, he tugged and pulled on the sheets she wrapped around herself, her slippers permitting some sliding along the floor to bring her back to him. "Castle—!" She exclaimed with a laugh. He smiled at her and she mirrored it, but with contradicting angry eyes and furrowed brows.

"Stay with me," he said. His voice soothed her ears, each syllable like a caress against her heart. A tender man. A loving man. Her man. She pondered it, her lips shifty to suppress her consideration at the thought of staying up with him on a school night.

"Baby I told you I have to get in early tomorrow," she said. Her words expressed her belief but her tone spoke otherwise. He could hear the weak resistance in her voice, and he loved it. He knew she wanted to stay. And she knew that he knew.

"If you're not gonna be sleeping, you might as well be here," he said. She looked away from him, still fighting it, but he didn't wait for her approval. He went for her hand and pulled her onto his lap. Her face expressed her reluctance but her body willingly came, and it fit snug into him as she settled in, her legs pulled up to hang over the armrest and her torso wrapped by one of his arms.

"Are you gonna get stuff done with me on your lap like this?" she asked, clearly skeptical.

"As long as you don't try anything—which for the record, I'm not against." He looked down at her with a grin, only to see one returned as she shook her head like he knew she would. As he went back to work she just gazed up at him with hazy eyes. She studied him, zoned in on his work, and unconsciously twisted and tugged on the neckline of his shirt. He didn't seem bothered, so she kept going, more comforted and settled now than the moments before in their bed.

"It's funny," he started up again, "I thought about this before. Before we were even dating."

At the thought she picked up her head from his chest, sitting up a little more to face him. "This?"

"Yeah. I mean…I just thought that this would be something that would happen if we ever got together. I'd write late into the night sometimes, and some nights I'd imagine you with me, like this." He sat on his words, just musing, reflecting back to days before—life before her. "I don't know, it's just funny that now, I can't imagine what it's like not to have moments like this, without you. Then I think of when I was gone, how that must've been—how that still affects us, what we have. I guess I'm saying…I just don't want to take this for granted."

How well she understood him. It scared her at times how he could feel the same things as her—the same wants, fears, to the very letter and degree. These very moments not only made her feel secure and safe and right with him, but they reaffirmed her trust for him…her faith in who he was as a person, who he was to her, his love for her, and everything in between.

"I think about that too. I still think about all those nights you were gone. Every day and every night…it was like all that time, everything, you had been a dream and then someone shook me up to wake, and you were gone, and so was that life. Every day and every night was like finding that dream again, trying to go back. Mornings were…I don't know, thinking about it already—" she cleared her throat, trying to hold back, swiping away the tears starting to pool in her bottom lids. "I don't wanna find myself missing you like that. I don't think I could bear it. I'd lose everything else. Everything. Everything but you—your love, being able to love you. Everything but you."

His eyes curved in, turned in earnest, looking on his wife with such pain. Just holding her, he pressed his lips onto her head, breathing into her hair. He knew he could never relieve her of the things she felt in all those months of his disappearance, but he knew efforts had to be made to get her to a place where she could find some semblance of peace. He brushed back stray strands from her face and rhythmically rubbed her arm, almost consoling. "I'm always here. And when I'm not, I promise I'll find my way back—again, and again, and again. You're home."

Hearing the words again in his head, a flash lit his mind and he darted to type out the last few lines he'd been working on:

_As much as he didn't want to admit it, no matter what Rook would always come back to Heat, and her to him. Some kind of bind existed between them. It was like his soul demanded to him, "it's __**her**__," and for that he couldn't turn away. He'd always return to her again, and again, and again._

When he finished, he discovered a sleeping Kate, slowly dozing further into him. Her mouth hung a bit, some drool seeped into his shirt as her lips trailed the surface of it. He chuckled, though weakly, a heavy haziness overtaking him all at once. Too comfortable to move, he shifted aside his things and propped his feet up, then Kate's as well, and shifted around for the optimal sleeping position.

It'd be a long night like this, but he liked this dream anyway.

He loved this dream.


	8. Don't Answer

**Preface: MATURE. Sexual themes. **

Prompt response from tumblr.

Her skin glowed a thin polish even in candle light. At times she seemed brighter than the few burning wicks scattered in the room. The freedom of an empty loft besides them two permitted another atmosphere, one where both their bodies knew a deeper peace, limp, but still so driven by the thought of being alone—together.

He looked upon her, sprawled out onto the bed, dressed only in a T-shirt as she teased his eyes with her wandering hands. Every few moments he forgot to breathe while staring at her. He just wanted to admire the the beauty, the masterpiece.

Knowing of course, soon he would be tearing it to shreds.

He took to her mouth first, careful to pay attention to every inch of it, followed by her neck. He especially took his time here as her breaths labored gradually into hums and then moans. To be taken care of. Well taken care of. That's all he wanted tonight for her. He couldn't rush this.

Brushing through her hair with one hand, he took the other to care to the rest of her body. By now he'd mastered every spot, knowledgable about which ones built her up or just sent her over. He teased her. Played with her. Patient and slow in progressing forward. Every time he spoke to her, he'd keep his lips just above the skin so she could understand from his breaths trailing along it. Her heart fluttered each time. He took notice as he observed her back also slightly arch, moving into him.

Just as he went to pull off her shirt, Kate's phone on the bedside started to ring. It was Ryan, who was due to call her hours ago on results involving a suspect. The moment Rick heard it start out, he pressed lips just under her navel. "Don't answer it," he said. It was hushed, but almost commanded. With a pained face she looked over at it, self-conscious about the call…and then the call after that.

By the third call she gave in, throwing a quick apologetic look to him, but he shook his head, half a smile cocked on his face as she went to answer.

"Beckett," she said fast. He just watched her at first, but then he made his way, inching back up towards her neck to be within closer earshot of the call, while simultaneously edging her out. Each kiss deepened successively, and her eyes shut tighter and tighter every time. "I'm here-I'm here," she reassured Ryan. She struggled to respond, and to her dismay, he had a lot more to say while Rick had a lot more to do.

His face occupied her neck, but his hands had moved downward, teasing and teasing until reaching her favorite button. On contact he felt her tense up as she tried to hold together the conversation. It had not been so much as a minute before he had her writhing, perspiring more, and gaping her mouth, even more. Her eyes remained welded shut and with her free hand, she clenched down her fingers at the base of his neck, either for relief or out of frustration, or perhaps both. She fought back her release, straining against his body, his chest pressed against hers, preventing much resistance. All she wanted was to hang up the damn phone.

"_Shit_," she whispered.

"I know that's what I said," Ryan replied. Her teeth clenched down to hold back a mix of laughter and release, just hoping for the call to end already. As wonderfully enthused as Ryan was about the break in the case and her happiness for it, her stamina continued to wane and Rick's efforts were nowhere near ceasing. Hang up, Ryan!

When a stifled moan escaped her, Ryan almost immediately asked if she was okay. "Beckett, are you alright?"

With some strength, she managed to dismiss him quickly. "I'm fine, just pained sorta—look you can just fill me in with the rest in the morning, good work—"

She had no more strength to wait for a response.

Hanging up the fastest way she could, she then chucked her phone onto the floor and took both hands to clutch his head, which had made its way down, down, down now full force to send her completely over. For nearly a full minute she let out her cries in bursts, shaking and convulsing until her final release, a broken and prolonged moan to signify it.

Finding her breath, she sought for the energy to speak again. "I hate you," she breathed with a smile and a heavy sigh. He smirked and shook his head.

"Next time you won't answer the phone," he said smiling before he kissed her stomach.


	9. We're Not Promised Tomorrow

**(Prompt based on "Like I'm Gonna Lose You" by Meghan Trainor. Some implied sexual themes in the beginning.)**

His body remained unmoved from the time he managed to go asleep, but while his mind dreamt, his body kept just as lively. Tensed muscles, a rapid heart beat, sweat seeped into his clothes, his dream vamped him up completely. He had only been asleep for a couple hours, but he seemed consumed by this dream. Though, he spent little time in this state. In a matter of a couple minutes, his eyes shot open, now aware of what reality actually was. In his continued panic he lurched upward, immediately looking towards Beckett, who still rested soundly beside him.

A relief washed over him, and his hands flew to his face to comfort himself. In doing so, he realized the dampness of it, most especially his eyes, which trickled thin trails of tears that collected at the corner creases. What a dream could do.

Going back under the sheets, he slid over towards Beckett, wrapped himself around her, and planted a peck along her temple. He worked cautiously, making sure not to wake her. Actually, even whilst sleeping, she still moved into him and made herself comfortable. She remained undisturbed even with his motions. However he had trouble, staying awake for the rest of the night in attempt to cleanse the residue of his dream, and all the emotions that came with it.

He sat on the idea, on his feelings, on the dream entirely. His eyes were sagged with an exhaustion, a grief that he couldn't shake. So he just thought it out, spilling the words onto the ceiling for him to look upon. He contemplated and gradually he came to a revelation, the face of it revealing itself in subtle presentation.

The realization manifested first at daybreak. Castle made a point to wake up much earlier than usual, and sought to prepare fresh roasted coffee and chopped fruits for breakfast, something quick before they would leave for work. When he returned to the bedroom, he set the food onto the bedside table, then proceeded to turn off the alarms on Beckett's phone, all before crawling back into bed with her. At exactly six o'clock, with the sun starting to pour into the loft, he tried to wake her with a light kiss.

At first she didn't stir. It took a moment before she came to consciousness, and realized his affection towards her lips, and her neck, and her shoulders. She gave him a smile, a soft snicker escaping between it, and ran her hand through his hair.

"It's kinda early—what time did you wake up?" she asked through hazy eyes.

"About twenty minutes ago," he said, continuing to cradle her and kiss her. She laughed a little louder this time as he drew out her excitement. She bent her face to kiss his head as he'd already slipped down to her chest. Though absolutely loving his fondness of her this morning, she couldn't help but wonder on his sudden energy. Usually they'd find their way together…lazily and sloppily, but he was quite ahead this morning.

Not that she didn't like that.

He coaxed her into it, teasing and pleasing her first before rocking together. Each drive drew slow, tenderly with each push and pull, breaths more labored, earnest, and heavy. He hovered over her, his forehead pressed against hers, both of them exhaling into each others mouths. To finish, it seemed as though time slowed. He held her neck, lowered his lips to brush over hers, and mouthed _I love you. I love_ _you so much_. In return, she too dragged out _always_. It felt like it lasted forever as they drew towards the end, his face shoved beside her neck and her face into his shoulder to muffle their eventual release.

Neither of them realized it until they looked each other, but when their eyes met again, they both saw gleams—polished, but not quite teary eyes. They both stared softly in awe, catching their breath as they tried to absorb what just happened.

"So…this is new," she said taking her thumbs to wipe his eyes. "That was…different."

"Different, completely awful or—"

"Oh God no—that was…heh. No, definitely _nowhere_ _near_ awful." He kept himself propped up over her, looking down and waiting for response. "I don't think we've had this…be this…"

"What?" she rubbed her hands over his cheeks and in his hair as she thought on her words.

"Intense? I mean—emotionally. I mean that's the first ever I've felt like that. Except maybe the first time we ever…"

He just smiled at her. It was working. His new outlook caused change, good change. "It's a good thing. Trust me," he said reaching down to kiss her. He let it linger, surprising her again with his newfound affection. She didn't fight it, no, but inside a part of her felt slightly uneasy on why and how this came about.

And that curiosity would grow into alarm as the day went on.

—

For much of the day, Castle maximized the amount of time he spent with her. Every opportunity they could be separated, he found a way around it to still be with her. When she went to the restroom, he even waited outside the door to be with her the minute she was out. She didn't realize his efforts until this moment, but even then felt reluctant to say something outright.

"Is everything okay?" she asked as they walked back to her desk.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'm with you. That's all that matters," he said while giving her a side hug. Unable to formulate the proper response, she just thought, biting her lip as she tried to recall the events of the last twenty-four hours, wondering what had changed. Before she could reach any conclusion, she eyed something on her desk as they drew closer.

"What are these for?" Beckett asked when she sat down. On top of all her paperwork, a large vase filled with flowers bloomed radiantly, a centerpiece for the entire floor of the precinct. White calla lilies, orchids, lilacs, and white roses assorted the bouquet. When she looked up at Castle, her eyes gleamed happily, but a tint of curiosity glazed over them as well.

"Just because," he shrugged. "I can get a bigger one too—"

"No-no," she stopped him quickly. "Gates will have a riot of one over something larger than this already is. It's beautiful, Castle. Thank you."

At that moment, without warning, he bent down to kiss her. Though initially receiving it, she then pulled away swiftly in remembrance of where they were.

"Castle," she hissed. "What are ya doin'? If Gates sees—"

A loud set of knocks simultaneously resounded on the window of the captain's office…angry, angry knocks. When they both turned their heads, Gates' eyebrow cocked, coupled with arms folded. She swatted her one hand, motioning Castle to move away from Beckett. When he stood up straight again, she still continued. Exchanging glances with Beckett, he took a half-step back. When his eyes returned to Gates, she motioned him one more time. And then another. And then another, before he was at least arms length away. At his last step, she smiled and nodded, before pulling her lips back into a poker face and returning to her desk.

Several feet away, Espo and Ryan started to _Oooooh_ at the both of them, shaking their heads and folding their arms.

"Them Castles kissing at work," Ryan started.

"Yeah, highly unprofessional guys. You need to uh, take some notes from me and Ryan here. You'd probably learn a thing or two if you paid good enough attention."

"Oh right—" Beckett started with a mocking voice, "pay real good attention to the guy who brought a date into the break room after hours and the guy who left their tighty-whitey's in the guy's bathroom? Yeah, real champions of professionalism," Beckett said holding back a smile.

"Hey who told you bout that," Espo whispered harsh. His eyes got wide and he rolled in his lips. "I removed the security tape and everything!"

"Let's just say you weren't alone that night—" Castle said, cutting himself off by taking a swig of his coffee.

"And that underwear incident was once, I was on my way to my…other job. And I-I switched out," Ryan said. Castle took his coffee away from his lips for a second, pursing them as he pondered the thought.

"No-no it was at least twice," he started. "I'm sure you remember St. Patrick's day. _Kiss me I'm Irish_? I hope you didn't want those back, Lazy-Eye Jerry kinda took them and—"

Before Castle could finish, both guys swung the other way on their chairs, going back to their work, fueled by the frustration in the backfire. Returning eyes to Beckett, she looked up at him, a gaze clearly demanding an explanation—both eyebrows raised, thinned lips, and hard eyes. Before either could say anything, her phone rang, and she let it go for the first two.

"Let's talk about this when we get home, okay?" she said reaching for her phone. Long before they could, her mind was already at work trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

—

Checked out for the night, they returned home as soon as they were able. Silence occupied the air between them until they reached the loft, and even then when they arrived, they took their time addressing the subject. After settling down, Beckett grabbed glasses and poured some wine, before she called Castle out to join her on the couch. He was slow and timid in his approach, but she pulled him in, rubbing his hands to ease the evident distress plastered on his face.

"What's goin' on, babe. What's on your mind," she said handing him his glass. He took to his, sipping slow but plenty, hoping to buzz himself and muster up strength to fight his embarrassment over his feelings.

"You know I never really talked to you about this before, mostly because at the time it was hardest for you. It was."

"What was?"

"When…you got shot." Oh. So this is where it starts.

When she didn't say anything, he went on to explain, both of them setting down their glasses, now aware of the context. "I knew that you were dealing with plenty…so it never came up. But I did—I did get affected by that day too—and not just because of you and me, when I told you I loved you. I had nightmares about that day. All those months we didn't talk, some nights thereafter. It haunted me. Each time something was different, something changed. In the ones I could control, either I'd be shot, or you'd be alive. But every other dream, you died, without fail. I'd wake up in a sweat, heartbeat banging through my ears. My mind was tortured with it for a long time. Sometimes I still wonder what would've happened if it had been me and not you. How different things might be.

"But last night…it was the first time in a long while I've dreamt about it. And this time, everything changed. You looked how you do now, and you were wearing your ring. We we're just talking, and then you got shot. It felt like I failed to protect you…again, and I watched you die in my arms. But this was something else. I mean, a dream is a dream right? It wasn't. It didn't feel that way. It felt vivid because you were real. Every bit of you. Your hair was as thick and golden, your as skin soft and fair. Your heartbeat against me, your hands, how you spoke. Even the way you looked at me when it happened. I—I _know_ that look," he stressed. His eyes welled up, and looked up at her for the first time, seeing her in tears too. He cupped her cheek and she held his hand as he continued. "Your eyes, your smile…it was you, and it was all of you, and I was losing all of you. I couldn't do anything.

"Then I woke up and my breathing abandoned me for a good minute because I fell back into our world. That's when I thought to myself…I can't do this. I can't continue treating our relationship the way I have. I didn't want to take you for granted. I wanted to love you like…I could lose you at any moment."

The processing took time. She absorbed the words he said, and he reflected on them as well. They wiped their tears and tried to compose themselves before speaking again. When she set out to talk, she held tight to his hands, brought them to her lips, kissing them first, and held them on her chin after as she began to speak. "I love you, you know that? I love you, Rick. And I love the sentiment, even if it's borne out of a bad experience. But at the same time, I don't want you to feel the need to do these things for me to feel more loved, or that you don't take me for granted. We will never take this relationship, or each other, for granted. Ever. That comes with our vows. Partners in life, baby. If something ever happens to me, when I go, I'll go knowing that I my husband? I married the most loving, giving, brilliant, frustrating, extraordinary, pain-in-the-ass I've ever known," she laughed with tears still in her eyes. He managed one too when she picked up his chin. "I'm so thankful for you. So thankful. Every day. And if I go before you, I'll go the happiest person in the world knowing that I got to love you—and that you loved me, cared for me, and stayed with me, always, until the very end. No one will ever be able to take that from me, from us, or convince otherwise. Okay?"

He pulled her into an embrace and they just lied back on the couch together, holding each other as their sniffles lightened up. "We're not promised tomorrow…" He added after a few moments. She nodded slow, before responding.

"I know. We're not. So I'll kiss you a little longer…until our minutes run out."

"And I'll love you now. Now until the next. Even if tomorrow never comes for us."

"Good," she said, kissing his cheek.

"Good," he said holding her tighter. And for the rest of the night, he didn't let go.

Not even for a second.


	10. Only One Between Us Two

Castle breathed in and out nicely besides Beckett. Rhythmic. Soothing. He seemed exhausted from the day when they got in, so she wasn't all too surprised when he turned in early. She didn't mind. It gave her the opportunity to just watch him rest, to care to him. She enjoyed watching his chest heave up and down, his lips sometimes parting, sometimes just moving, like he was still trying to talk to her in his sleep. He'd mumbled her name quite a bit already. Like he wanted to tell her something, to let her know what was happening with him, so she could be a part of whatever he dreamt.

After just looking and observing for several minutes, she inched towards him, rested her mouth against his shoulder, and hummed. It was a low, slow hum. She pressed it through a smile as she pushed back his hair, rocking his head back like she were keeping him asleep. She didn't feel the need to sleep herself just yet. She could do this all night if she could. She hummed away and ran her fingers through his hair, grazing his scalp with a ginger touch. She never really got this opportunity to appreciate him sleeping. She would always fall asleep first. This was different, and it was wonderful, and it was joy. Because this was the guy. He was the guy. He was the guy who loved her. She would always think fondly on that.

When she started to slow her hum, he unsettled a bit, turning away from her onto his side. There were more ways than one to mess with him, so she didn't fret. It was all a matter of finding a good spot.

This time she took to his back. She neared the space close to the back of his neck, and made her way down in slow strokes. She traced over his skin with her one index finger, while the left hand had grabbed for his and rested them at his hip. She enjoyed this very much. It was a kind of soothing peace she hadn't felt for a long time. She could go the whole night, and she would feel bliss, she would feel comfort. Being together, resting together, their hearts synced up and it was like they were one. They were. They were one.

And so she remembered a song. As she continued to trace along his back, she lost herself in what she wrote on his skin as she sang to herself very quietly.

_Every night together, every morning we wake _

_Make sure we both remember, our hearts we've gotta take,_

_ I'll hold yours and you grab mine at the start of every sun _

_We'll keep 'em close forever, when each and every day is done_

_You're the warmth of every moment _

_You're the breaths I want to breathe,_

_ You're all I ever wanted _

_And you're all I'll ever need _

_Kiss me when you wake up, even without all my make up _

_And we'll brave another day We'll always find our way, _

_Cause always saves us from the end _

_So our love can live again_

_So today's will have their happiness _

_And tomorrow's with their hopefulness_

_ And together our wholeness will never have a doubt_

_There's one in me and you,_

_ Only one between us two_

So lost in her little tune, she was starting to drift off. In her daze, she realized her finger had repeated tracing on loop I love you almost automatically. Acknowledging this, she brought herself to finish off her last trace, and smiled tenderly to herself. She pressed her lips firmly into her canvas, sealing everything she wrote deep into the pigments of his skin.

Overcome with her sudden tiredness, she turned to face the ceiling and closed her eyes.

Next to her, Castle turned his head to look over at her, and too gathered a smile. He took her hand that still linked with his, and he kissed it as he repositioned himself. He turned to face her and brought himself around her, cradling her head with his one arm on her pillow, the other over her stomach, and the rest of his body linking up to hers, every crevice hooking together. Skin to skin. Bare, raw, and warm. He closed his eyes again in attempt to fall back into his deep sleep, but he knew he had to say something. Before he could, after being slightly startled by his motions, she opened her eyes again and turned to him with a sleepy gaze, and cupped his cheek with her hand after realizing his consciousness.

"I love you too," he said fast, before she could gather a word herself. He waited, expectant, for some response from her, but when he peaked open his eyes, she fashioned a smile with high brows. "I thought it'd be rude not to say anything after you wrote it—forty-seven times on my back…and yes, I counted."

Her smile grew and it shut her eyes, but it melted when he bent his head to kiss her. He lingered, singing his own version of I love you into her mouth. She returned it, before nestling herself into his chest.

"Goodnight babe," she spoke into him.

"…There's one in me and you," he echoed, "only **one** between us two."

And with time, they both drifted off, lulled to sleep by the pulse of their love running through them as readily as their blood; the beat of their hearts, drummed and synched into one beat, supplying each other the very same life. It was as if they melted, melded together, incapable of ever truly separating again.


	11. Now I Do

Ugh. Another few minutes dealing with the case and it'd all be over. She just wanted to go home. She wanted her bed. She wanted her kid. She wanted her husband.

She wanted this case to be over.

Most of the time she could handle kid cases well…at least prior to being a mom. While it would prove difficult not to dwell on the idea of a young child murdered, she put her mind to solving the case, to drive herself to finish it in order to bring justice to the young lost soul. She thought before that she was often affected too much emotionally.

Now it was different. Quite different. With M.J. at the back of her mind, child cases hit too close to home, often draining energy more readily. She had to refocus, control the worse case scenarios drawn up in her head, or rather effortfully ignore them all together to get things done. Cases like this weren't merely bothersome, nor were they a burden. They were just painful. Unbearable. Devastating.

For moments at a time she composed herself just long enough to think straight. All she had to wait for was the results of the perps DNA test against the skin pulled from under the fingernails. She wanted to wait and watch the woman cuffed and sent away. It'd make her feel even just marginally better knowing they got the right one. The wait seemed to go on for a while, but only as an illusion. The impatience in her bones racked her whole body, speeding her up inside but slowing the world outside. She looked to her watch every several seconds, as if she'd immediately forgotten the the minute the moment she looked away.

"We got her," Ryan said turning the corner. A rush. She could feel properly again the moment she heard his words. She looked up, staring with steady eyes as she watched him go for the interrogation room.

She stood up with hesitation and walked over just as slow, arms folded as she peaked into the room watching Ryan arrest the woman. Her name was Maverick, and her eyes were thin and piercing, face taut with a clear arrogance smeared across her face. Beckett leaned against the wire divider, feelings of relief gradually seeping into her limbs, and even her heart.

"Don't be so happy Detective Beckett," Maverick started as she stopped in front of her. Ryan forced on her to walk but Beckett held up a low finger to him to halt his steps. "I will breathe this air again. I will walk the same streets you do and live the same way you do. I'll be back to this world. With good time."

Beckett smiled a wide smile, but one that hid her teeth. She hooked her thumbs over her pockets and walked as close as she could get to this woman. The heat was there, boiling, warning her. "This is world is one where I have a daughter. Her name is Martha-Johanna. She's a beautiful little girl. So you can guarantee that I will do everything in my power to make sure you do not exist in the world she lives."

"We'll see about that," Maverick said starting to walk again. Before she could take a second step, Beckett snatched her arm to stop her, getting close to her ear to whisper.

"I'm bound by the law to fight you behind my badge—but my husband? He's not. Do not believe for a second that he's beneath getting to you to ensure her safety." After letting go, the woman's face fell reserved, eyeing Beckett only from the side. "And he knows where I keep my gun…so keep that in mind before you make any…stupid mistakes."

No longer able to watch the process, Beckett grabbed for her jacket and headed home.

—

Beckett fumbled with her keys for a few seconds, struggling still to muster up energy to even thrust the right key into the lock. The struggle must've prolonged, as Castle opened the door with a curious look before she could get the right key.

"Hey," he dragged out, noting the visible wear in her expression. Without a word, she fell into him, burying her face into his chest. He took to her back and closed the door, just holding her there for a second, waiting for any response. She only heaved heavy into his chest, trying to exhale out all the grievances and miseries she held in her head.

"I just need a second…" she said muffled.

"You may not have a second, hon," he said kissing her forehead. And almost on cue, tiny steps pattering behind him grew in volume. When she let go, she saw M.J. running up to meet her.

"Mama!" The little girl squealed. The very delight in her face suddenly uplifted Beckett, and readied herself to catch her daughter leaping for her arms.

"Ah, hi baby girl," she started as she caught her. "How was your day?"

"Good…I ate ice cream for din!" Her words, though filtered through toddler slang, still translated clear to her, which caused for some raised eyebrows and pursed lips towards Castle.

"No-no," he started, putting his hands up as if defending himself. "I said ice cream—" he mimicked his daughters speech to play off the innocence, "before dinner, before sweetheart. We're still eating dinner, don't worry mama, she's had a bad day." He walked towards the readied food and beckoned them both over.

"Oh…" at the thought, she started to sadden, and placed a hand over her mother's cheek as they went towards the table. "You feel better mama?"

As she hugged her a little tighter and kissed her head, tucking it under her chin, she replied to her, "Now I do, baby. Now I do."


	12. The Books

"You sure you don't wanna come with?" Rick asked as Kate helped him slip on his coat. She patted down his shoulders and stood on tip toe before slipping her arms around his neck. She rested her face into the base of it, pressing kisses to every inch between each pause as she spoke.

"As much as I want to I'm due for paperwork early tomorrow. Anyway it'll be a nice reunion when you come home late Sunday night—" she finished, releasing her embrace as he turned to face her.

"I think you're more inclined to stay for the second than the first," he said picking up his suitcase. "Only because you are so totally _right_."

After exchanging smiles with him, she leaned in and hung on his neck, hooking a kiss as he held her. She stayed close to his lips even after parting, just talking in voices only they could hear. "Let me know you arrived as soon as you get there, okay?"

"I will," he started. He let out a sigh as he pressed his forehead on hers. "You make it so hard to leave, you know that?" She didn't say a word, only stroked his cheek and ran a hand through his hair to soothe him.

"It's to make sure you come back," she said with a wink, still trying to ease him. "Come on baby you have to go," she continued. He nodded, followed by a quick turn on his heel for the door. "Don't forget me when you strike it good, ahright?" she sought for a smile from him.

"I sorta kinda like you, so I think you'll be okay," he said turning the knob.

"Warming up to you too a little bit," she said blowing a kiss as he disappeared behind the door.

The loft now void of all but one Castle, Kate ventured off to preoccupy herself. Martha would be gone with her boyfriend until Monday, while Alexis spent most of the days and nights at the library studying for her finals. For the first time, she was really alone at the loft.

For the next few hours she tried several activities to keep her busy. She tried watching tv, working out, baking—which ended up with a couple dozen cookies that negated her work out completely—before subjecting to bed, almost two hours earlier than normal. As she lied with evident uneasiness, shifting around every so often, she bore holes into the ceiling, largely aware of the fact that Rick was gone. She needed something to immerse her mind into. Still awake and alert, she sought the bookshelves for a remedy.

She ran her fingers over the spines, sliding into each gap between the books. Most of the titles she knew, or saw before. She couldn't name every book in his extensive library, but she had enough passing glances to have a concrete idea of what he had. Yet what struck her by surprise was a particular set of books—ones not traditionally bound together. When she picked them up, she examined them closely, noting the tight straw binding along the spines, and the two covers laced together for each one; both bordered black, filled with a warm brown, and the front decorated with cherry blossoms. No names, no visible text, even when she opened the cover. Instead to her surprise, her full name read, scribed across the first page in Rick's best handwriting.

Her interested piqued she continued on, turning the pages to the next scribbles of words. Her nail traced the bottom of the words she read, slow and steady, imagining her husbands voice speaking to her.

This took much longer than I realized, and required more of these journals to complete it. Read through each story very carefully. Don't miss a single word.

_What was this? What on earth had this goofball come up with this time?_

Before reading anything, she flipped through the book, examining the folds and excess papers sticking out along the edges. Thumbing through, she realized how familiar the faces looked. Her body went lax the moment she started to read.

Victims. Families. He had pulled up her case files and placed copies of pictures of them all throughout the book, accompanied with handwritten letters from family members and friends of each victim. Most of the entries were out of order, but she remembered each one—who, when, where, how, and why.

She tackled the first book that night, thumbing through each page carefully. There were so many. So many words of gratitude and appreciation from people she'd placed in the back of her mind all these years after. "You brought peace to my family," "You gave me closure to move on," "I can let go knowing the truth." These phrases varied in all of the entries she read, all coming down to the same thing…their thankfulness for her.

So captivated by each entry, she didn't hear Rick's texts, or realize day break until the sun poured into the loft, setting the emptiness of the air aglow. She was awake, possibly more so than when she initially sought for sleep.

She managed to finish the first installment that morning while getting ready, but there was a small tug of sadness at her heart knowing she'd need to stop and go off to work. She just wanted to read on. But she used this feeling to carry her through the workload that day. She was efficient at doing paperwork, but it worked the mind in a monotonous rhythm, analyzing and skimming through papers to make sure reports were clear, concise, and correct. Mentally she had better uses to serve, but this had to be done. By the time she finished it was three o'clock. She wanted to get out of there, to go home. The boys tried to convince her to stick around but she wouldn't budge.

"You don't wanna hang out with us?" Ryan said as he and Espo watched her slip on her jacket.

"Yeah I mean, Castle isn't even here, what are you gonna do?"

"I just have some stuff to take care of at home, it's nothing personal guys," she said with a laugh. They threw her thinned eyes and folded arms as she continued to pack up. Noting on her eagerness to get out of there, they both came to one thought and stood in her path to delay her leave.

"Katherine Beckett Castle, are you having an affair?" Espo asked fast. Her eyes shot open and her mouth dropped slightly, more entertained than upset at the accusation.

"Wh-what? Are you guys serious?" She looked from Espo to Ryan, assessing their faces, gleaming with disapproval.

"Like hell we are," Ryan said. "You're way too excited to be going home to a Castle-less loft. What's going on?"

She still couldn't help but laugh in the face of their seriousness, scrunching her lips together to control herself. She couldn't wait to tell Rick about this. "I appreciate the concern you guys, and I love you for it, but no, I'm busy at home, and that really precedes going out for pizza and drinks. Sorry," she said going through them with an apologetic face. She didn't bother to look back, rather an attempt than anything else to hide her laughter as she left for home.

—

The second book seemed just the same, but less entries occupied the pages. This took an account for how long these submissions were. Much of the letters were from parents who'd lost their children. These were harder to go through, even if the families were just thanking her. She'd channel her feelings from before, remembered what it was like to pursue each case. The ends weren't always as satisfying as she hoped, but these words she started to collect in her mind, they helped to mend the wounds of working these cases.

"I always appreciated how driven you were to find the answers…you were aggressive, and you really sought out for the truth. At the same time you were able to comfort me, my husband, and help us get through that difficult time. You never settled, or grappled for substitutions…you needed to find answers, and you did. Because of you, we're able to move forward, shed some of the pain away, just enough to carry on. Thank you for that Detective."

She read on and encountered floods of her tears. But these tears weren't a build upon anything…they just flowed swiftly down her cheeks, without warning, without collection…an endless stream of her soul spilling out of her. She was happy…but even that idea failed to enumerate how deep and how rooted the feeling was.

This time around, she fell asleep while reading, clutching it close to her chest until the morning. When she woke the next day, Alexis brought her to consciousness, setting a cup of coffee next to the bed.

"What did _you_ do last night?" she said smiling at Kate. "I thought you'd never wake up."

With squinting eyes, she struggled to look around and remember what had happened. "Lex? What time is it?"

"It's almost one," she said grinning. At her words Kate shot up and the book toppled on the floor. Alexis went to pick it up, half a smile pulled up on her face. "What's this?"

"Oh um," she said musing fast. Had he wanted her to see that yet? Did he want anyone else to know? Did anyone know? "Just some notes your dad was working on for the next book. I looked over them for him to give some input."

_How convincing did that sound?_

"Oh okay. Is it good?"

She smiled at her and nodded slow. "Yeah actually, it's great. It's gonna be a hit."

"I'd bet on that too," Alexis said as she walked out towards the living room. Her tone implied something more, but before Kate could address it, she started up again as she slipped on her jacket and picked up her bag. "I felt like I haven't seen you, and you wouldn't wake up so I wanted to make sure you were okay before I took off. I'm going to the library again for a couple hours, but I'll be back soon." She walked back towards the bedroom and hooked Kate's neck with her arm before planting a kiss on her head.

"Sweetie your brain is probably fried with how much you've been goin to that place. Soon enough the librarian will be taking rent from you," Kate said sitting up properly in bed.

"I'll take the risk," Alexis said looking back at her.

"Thanks for the pick-me-up," she called out, "love ya."

"You too!" Alexis said as she closed the door.

And the loft was silenced once more.

—

After cleaning and waking herself up, Kate took to the second book again, finishing off what was left. At the close she felt a sense of anxiety. Should she have read these already? Should she have waited for him to give them to her? She didn't know what to think…but she knew she wanted to read the third one. She avoided it for some time, cleaning up the loft, working out, then cooking dinner. She fought the resistance, but eventually gave in. After baking some salmon, she sat down with the third installment, kicked back on the couch, and began to read. However to her surprise, she flipped open the book to pages of more familiar faces. Gates, Lanie, Espo, Ryan, Martha, and Alexis. They all filled the first few pages of the book.

Gates was surprising at all to see, but hers was possibly the most authentic, as it read off a post-it note, addressed to Rick:

_Don't mess this one up Mr. Castle. She's best like this. The last thing I want is for her to change who she is. You best make sure she keeps up with all she's done._

Esposito and Ryan's mirrored each other. They could've easily shared the same one. It begged the question whether or not they wrote theirs together, or they were so in unison that they had the same things to say. "Thanks for really being there," they'd said. "There's no one else we'd faster take a bullet for than you." Those stuck out most to her, ringing in her head over and over.

Lanie rambled goodness upon goodness about Kate. Her words were a mess but a mess of beauty to her eyes. The words cluttered all of what made Kate Kate. "I still get surprised about how big your heart can get, how sweet you are, how lovely you live, giving all yourself in what you do. I'll always remember you for that."

It became increasingly difficult to finish these entries without crying. This was the third time she had bled into the pages of these books, and it was the most she's done of all three. It gradually built up as she passed through, reading every word in the voice of the ones she loved.

The last three she wasn't prepared for. She understood that going in, but she failed to understand just how unprepared she was, the capacity, until she started reading. She started with Alexis, who had just about the neatest writing of all of them.

_Kate, _

_You know something? I love my mom. I really do. But…truthfully, growing up was hard. I taught myself not to expect much from her, because she really didn't know how to be what I needed. I forgave her for that, but at the same time, I still needed someone else in my life. Grams was there, and she did what she could to make up, to compensate. But you know what? Everything changed when you walked into our lives. _

_It was a pain to watch you and dad chase each other for the first few years, but even then, I still looked to you, in ways you might not have known. I saw strength, courage, bravery, weakness, vulnerability, passion, and love in you. You taught me through example that these could co-exist. You showed me that in the face of your greatest adversities, you don't have to come out worse…that you can be broken, only to be put back together better. _

_I feel stronger for having you around, even more so now that you are integrated completely into our lives. I'll be forever thankful for you, for being you, for loving and caring for us, and especially my dad. Please don't change, or ever worry that all you do goes to waste. It doesn't. And it never will._

_That girl. She knew_. She shook her head, smiling to herself, and set her hand on the page to hold the words. So many tears were left to cry out. They flowed and flowed as she continued on to Martha, who happened to write in a nice hot pink—the choice managing to evoke a giggle out of Kate.

_Katherine - _

_My dearest, I cannot believe you. How can someone like yourself ponder what difference you've made in the world? You can imagine my surprise when Richard conferred with me about this. Devastated, completely devastated knowing you questioned it. _

_Though it hasn't been easy, I know my services to this world, and that being to entertain, I relish every moment, knowing the laughter or sadness, or relevance I bring to others through what I do. But my dear, as much as I love what I do, you are living so much more. Every day you fight for the peace, you are a warrior, a guardian of New York, and the angel in our lives. _

_My respect for you has blossomed in the years knowing you, and more for showing Richard the way as well. He has the best of both our worlds—the gift to entertain, and to guard. He's better than I ever could've imagined him to be, knowing you are here to stand by him. Stay true to you sweetheart. I can't imagine our lives any other way._

She breathed out heavily, her eyes sore and wet, nose dripping beyond control. Could she finish? Could she put herself through Rick's testament? She tried to compose herself as she made it to the last section. With fervor she flipped the page, revealing pictures of her alongside his words. It was like a timeline of their lives together, and he was taking her back to the start.

_The moment I met you…my life became extraordinary. Was it the way you said my name? The way you looked at me? Or for other reasons, maybe inexplicable? I still try to find the answers to that all these years later, how you got me. It was a game…a game I wanted to play with you. Exciting and thrilling, a constant high, you captured me from that first moment, and I haven't been able to let go since. And it's become something far more than a game since. _

_For all these years, I watched in wait. This push and pull, the forces acting over you…through the greatest heat and pressure, torture and torment, you served this city, you served the people, all the while battling your own demons. I stayed and saw all of it…you at your best, your worst. I stayed. Amidst the ugliness, the grief, the angst. I stayed. Why do you think that is? _

_The work you do…who you are to people. You're the light. You're the sunshine. You're the beams cleansing each of us of our darkness. I felt that early on…and I think that's what kept me tied to you, chained to you. You pulled me back, showed me the way, and then there was some new meaning to me and who I was that I never understood before. _

_The depth of you, your heart. How you talk to others, how you lead. Everything you do creates a change somehow, someway. There are countless things. I could fill more books with them…besides Nikki Heat, because those count too. You are someone writer's like me dream of creating. Someone beautifully flawed, someone dynamic, someone tangible, real. And I could write about you for the rest of my life. I think I might. It'd be the best thing I could do…to keep someone like you alive forever, even if just in words. I think I'll do that._

_Keep changing the world. Just like you changed the people in these books. Just like you changed mine._

_I love you, with everything in me, always._

_Rick_

This was the fastest she'd read through any of the books, but it was the hardest she cried. She smiled so wide as her face glistened, drenched with happiness pouring out her soul.

She couldn't wait till he would come home.

—

Arriving in later than anticipated, Rick cautioned himself as he brought the luggage in. He looked absolutely subdued, ready to flip into bed, ready to collapse. He didn't even care to undress, he just took off his jacket and shoes before crawling in. When he did, Kate turned to greet him, shoving her face into his chest, holding him by the waist.

"I'm surprised you're still awake," he started. When she didn't respond, he put his arm around her and kissed her forehead. "You found the books didn't you?"

"How did you know?" she asked pulling away to look at him. He just grinned, his glee apparent in his wide smile and thinned eyes.

"Because I know you." She sighed, thinking that the only logical thing to do next was to kiss him. So she reached up for him, going a little longer than he expected.

"I'm glad you know me," she started. Looking thoughtful, she scrunched her lips before speaking again. "You tired?"

"Kinda, but uh…I think I owe someone a heck of a reunion, from what I recall."

Sitting up, she threw a leg over him, straddling his lap as she ran her hands at the sides of his neck. "I was thinking more along the lines of a thank you."

"A thank you, huh?" he said reaching for her hands. He interlocked them as she leaned down.

"Trust me, it's better than a reunion," she finished on his lips. And so for as many times as their bodies allowed, she thanked him for the rest of the night.


	13. Count For Me

**A/N: Straight up smut (not necessarily explicit) MATURE. You've been warned.**

"You comin' or what?" she asked pulling back the comforter. She dressed down to her t-shirt while he stood, wary about coming to bed.

"I'm not sure if I should," he said. He still remained in his dress clothes, looking upon her, hesitant to approach.

"Come on Castle, I told you I'm not upset anymore." She didn't look him, even as she climbed into the sheets. He knew she was keeping it inside.

Still reluctant, he inched over to his side and proceeded to dress down as well, careful as he got into bed. He tried to avoid it, let it rest under some sleep, but he couldn't go to sleep feeling this way. He turned around and propped himself up on his arm to look over at her. When she realized his focus she turned to face him as well.

"I'm not mad," she reassured again. "But you have to understand how crappy I feel about it, even for just tonight. I'll be okay. I just don't wanna think about it anymore."

He nodded, pondering the thought of what to do. "Can I make it up to you?"

She knew where his thoughts were going, but she wasn't sure anything he did could remedy her feelings right now. "What's your plan?" she asked, exhaustion visibly painted on her face.

"Count for me," he said. She fashioned a puzzled look. He smiled at her. "Count down from 100."

Eyes still glazed with confusion, she looked at him, slowly starting the countdown, unsure of what he was getting at. "Hundred…ninety-nine…"

And in that moment, the fight begun: between her stamina and his control.

He started at her neck, going for the base, alternating between light breathy kisses and punctures of passion, gaging her state by how easily she could count. His hands roamed over her, tracing her skin with a purpose, hovering over the nerves that made her shiver in delight. With each passing number, he gradually moved down her body, careful to pay attention to every spot.

"Eighty…seventy-nine…ugh, seventy-eight—"

Slow and steady he worked her up. She began to tremble under his lips, his mouth talking to her body in a language only they understood. Her limbs pulled against the bedspread, making wrinkles and creating heat, writhing in friction with the cotton and his skin as he continued his pursuit downward.

"Six…ty-four…six…sixty-three—_oh_…"

With every passing number the amount and length of her moans increased as the easiness to count decreased. From breathlessness to agony she waited, anticipating to reach zero. By the halfway point she was well polished, her skin slick and shiny with sweat, her hands eager to reach down for release, but he didn't allow her. He continued to ravage her, forcing out cries, begs for release, her body aflame as she struggled to countdown.

"Thirty-nine…thirty—oh **God** Rick—"

He'd reached her lips, but teased her still, evoking more distress in her voice, the last syllables raising up their tone as if they were separate questions. He too struggled to maintain his reserve, while taking in every sound that escaped from her. She edged him on, and while she sought for release at the end of their count, he sought to see her burst, erupting with pleasure…knowing he brought her there.

By twenty-five, she was past impatient. Her body was ready for him, and it demanded him, but he wouldn't give it to her just yet. He continued to kiss her, swallow her, reminding her how much he appreciated her and all her goodness. She held onto his head for dear life, fingers curled over it, gripped to his hair, uncertain of whether she could keep going.

"Fifteen…fourteen—ugh—thirteen…twelve…el…Rick…Rick baby…_please_…God baby please—"

He sped up as she struggled to reach ten, but when she did, he lurched back upward in one swift movement, taking her mouth while simultaneously sliding into her. She choked from his force and he felt it clear and crisp between his lips, now trying to silence her as he finished the countdown with slow strokes of his hips.

Ten…nine…eight…seven….six…five….

Four…

Three…

Two…

"Shit," they mouthed simultaneously over each other's lips. Her fingers dug in his skin as she clung her whole body onto him, preparing to reach the end. Reaching one, he sped up tremendously, and kept going for fifteen more seconds before they cried out together, convulsing into the other to finally finish it all. They held together as one for a few moments, sensitive to the aftershocks that struck inside them. He held himself up over her and brushed away her hair, revealing her changed face now plastered with relief and satisfaction. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle as he brushed her hair back.

"Still feeling crappy?" he asked.

"Heh…remind me again what I'm feeling crappy for?"


	14. Sleepless Night 42

**Preface: One of many sleepless nights during the months of Castle's kidnapping. Beckett stays the night at the loft after having dinner with Martha and Alexis. I might've stretched some possibilities here but, idk, I felt inspired. Nighttime settings are the best.**

Martha had encouraged Kate to put the bed to some use, but she understood why she favored the couch instead. She hadn't so much as sat on the bed since Castle's disappearance, only stared from a great distance just outside the bedroom door. The couch was fine. It was better than fine, really.

Or so she convinced herself.

She was left with a large comforter and a substantial amount of pillows to compensate, but she didn't need them. Like most nights spent of the last month or so, she lied awake, fewer and fewer hours of sleep claimed as the days drew on. She was more productive awake, and being awake was the only way she could find him, or find ways to find him, to bring him back. She couldn't sleep. Not yet.

Long after Martha and Alexis went off to bed, Kate settled herself in front of the windows and looked outside. She found comfort in watching people and cars, and people in cars pass by. She thought like him—conjured up stories about who she saw, musing on what they might be up to on this night. Yet this lasted for only so long before the feeling came again. She had become well acquainted with this feeling. They spent nights together, her company when all the noise died out and all she could hear was silence. This feeling rotted her inside, a mess that cumulated over time, growing heavier and heavier the more she thought about him, the more she missed him. She couldn't stop any of it, because to stop it would mean to forget Castle, to abandon him. It would be the same to accept him to be dead.

And there was no way in _hell_ that was even a consideration.

At the 2nd hour after midnight, her mind grew hazy. She sat on the couch and wrapped herself in the comforter, the loft feeling colder than usual. She didn't lie down quite yet, still enveloped by her thoughts of their supposed wedding day, reliving the sight of his car aflame. She almost sank into tears, until a passing shadow moved beside her, abruptly halting her grief. When she turned to see if it was one of the girls, her stomach tightened and all breath escaped her as she stared down the figure beside her. Because it was a figure, or a figment rather, than anything else. That was the only explanation for why she was there.

"Hi sweetie," Johanna Beckett said with a smile. Kate's eyes expanded, absorbing the sight before her, making sure it was in fact her mother. And it was.

"Hi mom," she choked.

•••

Stunned. Indefinitely stunned, Kate just stared at her mother, like she was seeing her for the first time ever. Everything was perfect, just as she had been all those years ago. She looked so real. She was real, for now, for what Kate could see. She almost wanted to touch her, but reluctant held back, afraid to scare whatever this was away.

"You're here?" Kate asked with a meek tone of affection. "Is this real?"

"I'll leave you to judge that when I'm done. If I say something now you may just disregard what I'm about to tell you."

"My dead mother is sitting with me in my fiancé's living room. Im sorry, but that's not exactly the best start to gaining my confidence in what you have to say."

"Okay, point taken. Let's call this something then. A hallucination?"

"I'm not on drugs, mom."

"Yes I know, but you **are** carrying a large sleep deficit, and I assure you that'll send you to all kinds of places," she said with a laugh. Kate's face melted into uneasiness which prompted another response from her mom. "What's on your mind?"

"Castle." She said flatly.

Johanna laughed. "Yes, baby girl, I know. You've told me. Plenty of times. That's all you've told me for the last few weeks." She looked at her daughter with earnest eyes and reached out for her. At the touch of her skin Kate retracted, alarmed at the feel of her mothers fingers, her warmth. She was there. She returned her hand to its place and Johanna clutched onto it with both her hands before Kate rested her other on top. "You're scaring me, Katie." Kate turned to confusion, her mouth starting to form words but none came out. Johanna tackled her silence to end her struggle. "You don't think I can tell where you're at based on what you tell me? What I can see in your heart? Baby you're losing hope. I can feel it in me. You're losing hope that Rick will come back home to you."

"It's a cycle, mom, that's every day. I get it back. I swear to you."

Johanna let one hand go and pointed a finger at her daughter's face. "Katherine Houghton Beckett, you don't dare lie to me, I see it in your eyes and I know it's in your heart. Look at me and tell me you believe he's gonna walk through that door sometime soon because you know you're gonna find him." Kate's eyebrows furrowed and her eyes narrowed in, her upper lip taking a plunge underneath her bottom teeth. Her eyes watered but she did not allow a single one to fall. Not even one drop. "The truth. Vincit omnia veritas. What is the truth here? He loves you. He _loves_ you, Kate. We both know that. That truth you have to hold on to. You have to hold on because his love for you will bring him back, because if you don't find a way, _he_ will find a way. I promise you. Just don't give up. You are my girl, you are my daughter, and I raised a fighter. Don't you give up on him."

She didn't realize the flow of her tears until she was hugging her mother. She was_ hugging her mother._ This time of all times was when Kate needed her so much. She held on so tightly and fought through the tears to whisper in her ear. "I love you, mom. I love you. I love you so much." It was like she couldn't say it enough. When their embrace released, Johanna held onto Kate's face, wiping her thumbs over the trail of her tears.

"I love you too. And I'm so proud of you. Always. Remember that."

"God mom," she started, "I wish—so many things. Why couldn't you know him…" She struggled to say. Johanna's face was clearly pained, but she smiled with a shine on her eyes.

"So he could know you, baby." She started, reaching out to brush away Kate's hair, to graze her face. "I didn't want to leave you. But I think I had to. So you could have this life." She paused for just a moment, staring at her daughter with joy. "Are you happy?" Kate could only respond with just a nod. Her mother did the same. "Good. Then go rest. Go to sleep now Kate. I love you. My sweet girl."

Instead of Johanna dissipating before her, darkness flooded her line of sight, and with it a chill creeped up her side. Eyes still closed, her body acknowledged the floor, which seemed to be beside her, but rather her flat on it, tangled in the blanket. She woke to the hand of Alexis gently nudging her shoulder and petting her head. Kate sat up, and Alexis continued to care to her.

"Kate, how did you end up on the floor? Are you okay?"

Kate looked to her watch startled at the time. "Alexis it's only four, what are you doing up, why are you awake?"

"I came to get water and I saw you laying here, crying and I thought you were awake—I thought something had happened."

"I'm not so sure how I got here either," she said in a daze, looking around. "Go back to bed sweetie, I'm okay."

"No," Alexis said with conviction, "you're not. Come on," she said standing up and taking Kate with her. "If you're not staying in Dad's bed you're gonna stay in someone's."

Reluctant, Kate stood stationary, but Alexis pulled her along and they walked up the stairs linked by their arms. There was no point in fighting it, so Kate just went with it. "You sound like you haven't been sleeping well either," she said as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Not much, no. At least if we're awake, were awake together. If you slept in grams room you'd be having conversations with her subconscious and her snoring."

And for the first time, a smile broke, and a hearty laugh escaped her walking into the room, a moment of fleeting peace even for just the night.


	15. 4 AM

She had been tossing and turning all night. The struggle earlier that day with the suspect probably made for these nasty aches all over her body, and all of which made a point to keeping her up for intervals at a time. By 4, after the eighth time of waking up and reaching out beside her, she figured there was no point anymore.

So she got up and out of bed, slow enough and stealthy enough so as not to disturb her husband who sprawled out in bed, dead asleep. Catching a glimpse of him she smiled briefly, before she ventured out into the living room in search of a remedy for her restlessness.

She sought help from the kitchen, naturally, hopeful for something when she opened the fridge. She examined each shelf thoroughly, scanning through for something that would satisfy, put her to rest before having to drag herself out of bed in a couple hours. Still gripped to the handle of the fridge, she looked out into the kitchen again, a sudden lax in her legs and shoulders when she focused her eyes on the bottle of Merlot still sitting on the dining table.

With a steady walk she cautioned her way towards the cabinets, wary of the powerful squeak they had to them at this volume of quiet and grabbed the first glass she could. When she reached the bottle, a sigh lingered between her lips as she poured, grateful for the marooned elixir spilling out before her. She sat herself on the couch and took swig after swig, not so much cherishing each like she normally would, but rather waited and gaged the effect on her body. A rush drove her to finish her dose, but with clear dismay mounting her face as she met her eyes with the bottom of the glass, she let a heavy huff out. Her eyes shifted towards the bottle again, tempted to try another. You have work in a few hours. It would just be one more glass. Surely that would send her off to slumber.

So there she went, off to pour another glass, this time more generous than the last. When she raised it to the moonlight flooding parts of the room, the light hit it well enough for her to spot a dark figure in the distance. Slightly startled her body jerked, and so did the glass, spilling some of the contents to spatter on the floor. When the figure emerged from his place, her arms sunk to her sides, relieved to find her husband walking towards her.

"Damn it, Castle," she said while checking the spill.

"It's four in the morning you shouldn't be drinking anyway—especially not without me," he said squatting down to clean the mess. A soft laugh escaped her as he stood back up, tossing the wet tissue on the table before taking away her glass, and taking a couple sips of his own. He set it down as she took a seat back on the couch, shortly joining her to figure out what was going on. They leaned into each other, her legs folded but leaned up against his left calf; his arms expanded, but reaching out around her ready for an embrace.

"I couldn't sleep."

"I see that," he started. "I woke up for a second and I saw you were gone."

Her eyes shut tight, and she bit her lips out of a clear discomfort. He noticed this, despite facing her against the moonlight, most of the shadows overtaking her, he still noticed this. "I've just got these pains in me. I can't really explain them. They've kept me up almost every hour."

"How would you describe them?"

"I don't know. It's like being restless, but you feel something with it, an actual ache, you know? Just…all over."

"Well uh, are you thinking about anything while these aches are…for a lack of a better verb, aching away?"

She thought for a moment, paused in the moment, reaching for what had been on her mind all day.

Oh, she thought. That's right.

The realization manifested on her face, enabling him to press again.

"What, Kate? What happened?"

She had to muster up some strength for this—crying over it once was already enough. Maybe that's why it was buried so deep. She didn't want to admit it was the reason that kept her up. "So today I ran into Detective Lowell. Do you remember her?" He nodded no. "She's from kidnapping."

Oh, he thought. It's about this.

She gathered from his look that he knew where this was going, but he still went along, curious to hear the story entirely. "What did she say to you?"

"She needed help on a case….missing husband, has been for about four months now. They have no leads, and she remembered Demming mentioned my 'abstract thinking' to her before. Thought I'd be of help. Though I think either she must've either been out when you were MIA, or she was tactful and just didn't wanna bring up that aspect of my experience with kidnapping."

"How kind of her to not bring it up, but still use you nonetheless," he spoke lighter than he thought of it. She smiled again, and took a hand to his face. She brushed away his hair and cupped his cheek.

"No baby, no. I could've said no. I didn't. There's a reason for that." Her hand slipped down to rest on his shoulder, but he took it and pulled her in, reclining back onto the couch with her on the inside of the couch, wrapped up in him.

"What happened with us. That's why you helped her—that's why you're still up, trying to knock out using wine."

"I just can't get past this. I know we both agreed we just have to, we have to move on with our lives and we have, and it's been everything. It's just—I wake up at night sometimes still, worried that I'm not gonna see you there next to me."

He needed to remedy her mind, somehow, even if just for tonight. But what could he say? There would be no relief without answers. Right now they had to wait, to not put off life while they did, and just hope for something that would lead them somewhere. "I'm gonna be honest with you hon, I don't think we can completely stop worrying about that until we put this to rest. But what I do know is that no matter what happens with this, with us, I will come home to you every time. Every time. You know why? Because I love you. Too much. Still."

She looked up at him and smiled again, and sighed, but a good one. A thankful one. So thankful for the good spirits he has for them, for the sake of them. "I'm kinda starting to like you too, Castle." She held his neck and kissed him, letting it linger, letting it suspend, cherishing peace that filled her up. She rested her head beneath his chin and held onto him. "Thank you," she whispered, the peace finally taking her away.

"For what?" he whispered back with equal exhaustion.

"For coming home…for coming back to me."

She felt his smile against her head, followed by a kiss against her temple. "Always."


	16. Fix You

A/N: Pre Always, Post Undead Again. This could've been a multi chapter fic, but I'm testing the water still. I'm too new as of yet for something that extensive. XD

–

"Surgery?" Beckett asked, her concern generously coating her words. "How serious?" They both took slow, long strides down the side walk, looking and listening for the hot scene Ryan and Espo just called them about. Seeing how close it was to the precinct he suggested they walk, seizing the opportunity to speak with her privately.

"Serious enough. Enough that I'm telling you about it, like this." She looked at him sideways, waiting to lock a look on him. Her eyes curved down and her lips pulled in, unsure of what to respond. "I'm gonna be fine," he said, dismissing her look. She turned away, but still couldn't shake off the sudden anxiety coursing through her.

"I mean…what happened is it…" she trailed off, eyes rounded out as she mused on what it could be. Before any coherent idea came out of her, he stopped her.

"If I tell you, you'll say no," he started. His steps came to a gradual stop, as hers did, before she turned to face him completely.

"Say no to what?"

"I want you…to be my medical proxy."

_What? Did I hear that right?_

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked taking a step towards him. He spoke more freely this time, more comfortable saying it after hearing it aloud.

"I want you to be my proxy."

"No–I heard you. I just…wh-why?" Her mouth dangled a little, her jaw moving slightly as if she had more to say, but she didn't. Awestruck. How many other alternatives did he have?

"My mother is too emotional, I can't expect her to make a rational decision knowing I'm under the knife. Same with Alexis. Plus she's not old enough to handle this responsibility." She looked away, struggling to process the magnitude of what he was asking of her.

"Castle I–I don't–me? Make a decision that could effectively kill you?"

"Or save me," he added fast, coupled with a snicker. "I'll be fine."

His attitude irked her in someway, triggering a forceful response. "So why are you asking for this, huh? You need me to be rational for a situation that's already under control? What's goin' on?" The demand for answers cut crisp in her voice. "We're not continuing this until you tell me."

A sigh escaped him after a moment, dragged out as he stared at her, her face expectant. He took a swig of his coffee and looked past her and around, avoiding her reaction when he told her.

"I've got an abnormal growth. It's benign, it's not cancer, but it's been affecting my back for some time now. My doctor wants it removed as soon as he can. I'm going in next week."

When his eyes met hers again, he discovered her change…her eyes hung, lips parted slightly. She almost looked confused, even though he was sure she wasn't. After letting several seconds pass she turned away, her eyebrows starting to furrow and lips starting to purse. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"We've had a lot going on lately, don't you think?"

"I don't care what case load we have, you need to tell me these things–"

"–I meant…between _us_, Kate."

When she returned her eyes he managed a faint smile, but she sucked in her top lip and bowed her head in embarrassment. How could she forget? She made a look to respond but before she could, Ryan and Esposito turned the corner.

"You guys draggin' your feet? Come on, we're all waiting for you," Espo said. Beckett's glance flicked toward Castle, wary about whether to disclose what they had talked about.

"It's my fault," he started. "I enjoyed the walk too much."

"Man we got a dead body and you're strolling on through the streets? It ain't like we've never seen them before," Espo said. Before anyone could say anything more they all started walking. With Espo at the lead and Beckett and Castle taking the back, both mentally preoccupied, Ryan assessed their demeanor trying to figure out what was going on.

–

Back at the precinct Castle avoided spending downtime with Beckett. After every group effort to put the pieces together, he'd wander off, find ways and reasons to be within reach but out of the area, namely Beckett's desk. The whole day she barely spoke to him.

After interrogating a suspect, Beckett started for the murder board, but she caught glimpse of Castle sitting in the break room by himself. Looking around her, checking for the others, she made her way to him, edging forward with clear reluctance all the way to the door. He acknowledged her with a smile, she having some difficulty returning one with the same brightness, as she closed the door and went to sit with him.

Silence occupied the air for several moments, but it didn't seem to bother either of them. The matter to worry about was what to say. Should she say yes? Agree? Did she have the right to do this after lying to him for so long? After what they'd just been through? Knowing all of that, why did he even ask her?

"How did Martha and Alexis react when you told them?" she said. This wasn't her main question she wanted answered, but she figured she could lead up to it from here.

"I told them I'd be fine. They're still scared. I think they're even more scared now that it's closer."

"You've known for some time now?" He just nodded at her. She bowed her head again, blanching her hands with firm rubs and teeth gnawing at her lips until raw. She couldn't hold it in anymore. "Why me? If not your mother or Alexis, of all people why me?" She came off more gentle this time around. He realized how surprised she was that he chose her, rather than anyone else. Although, it sounded silly to him.

Of course he chose her.

"I don't have anyone else," he said.

"Oh come on, now you're modest? You've got plenty of people to ask to do this."

"I know. You're right. But that doesn't mean I trust them." Oh. He trusted her. He trusted her. He still trusted her. "If there's anything I know I can trust you with before anyone else, it's my life. That belief I have, is why, and if that's not a good reason then I don't know what is." He met her eyes with a soft gaze, staring into the more tender face she wore now. A part of her wanted to cry. She knew things weren't completely right between them, but regardless, he wanted her there, playing an important role. A role that could decide whether he walked out of the hospital or not.

"I'll do it."

–

As the days drew closer to his surgery, Castle finally opened up to others at the precinct. He'd be due for leave and figured it was time to bring it to light. Of all of them, Gates didn't hide her joy knowing he'd be gone for a little while, but he knew she was hiding her sadness behind her smile and otter claps.

Beckett felt deep discomfort when she watched him talk to the boys about the surgery. The last night before he would leave they all talked about it after work, cracking jokes about him, musing on the idea of him losing his conspiracy theories and all his other crazy antics from going under. She knew he joked with them to downplay how serious it actually was, but she wondered if he felt scared…worried about the outcome, all things that actually could go wrong. She imagined that he tucked all these away in order to prepare himself better–to go in with a positive mindset rather than anything else. She admired his strength, but she worried how much of it held true.

"Listen guys I gotta go," Castle said getting up. He grabbed his jacket as he continued. "I'm due there pretty early tomorrow. And I can't drink anyway so."

"Look man you're gonna be fine," Espo said going for a bro hug.

"We'll drop by after work to see the damage done," Ryan said with a laugh. He went next, but as he patted Castle's back his eyes flashed at Beckett, trying to gage her feelings. After seeing how recluse she looked, he made a point to excuse himself and Espo. "Come on man, Douglas is waiting for us at The Old Haunt. We'll drink to you tonight Castle," he said as they both walked away.

Once they were out of earshot, Castle turned to her with questioning eyes. "You didn't tell them you're gonna be gone tomorrow."

She shrugged. "We don't want them to think more than what this is, right?" She spoke as if she didn't believe it herself, almost upset at this charade he wanted to play. His ears picked up on it, but he chose not to fight it. "I have to talk to Gates still, so."

"Are you staying the night?"

"Sure," she dismissed fast, not actually realizing what he said. After a second she shook her head, trying to shake off her haziness. "I won't be long."

Without another word he stepped off, and she watched him walk all the way until he got in the elevators to leave. With a trembling inhale and exhale, she sent herself into Gates' office, asking permission to talk. She began to explain the situation, assuring that she'd be gone only one day. With raised brows and shifty eyes, Gates replied in a way she didn't anticipate.

"How serious is this, Detective?"

Take aback by her response, she found herself scrambling for words to offer herself. "It's–well enough, sir. He expressed to me how much he wants me there and as his partner, I won't deny him."

"I hadn't doubted that," she started. "Just watching…from a distance."

Beckett sat on her words, guessing that that was her signal of approval, but also wondering if she had just subtly admitted to being concerned about Castle. Which it turns out, could only mean one thing.

This was worse than she thought.

–

Settling into the loft didn't take too much time. Martha had already prepared the extra room for Beckett, and it only became a matter of changing and getting ready for bed. Yet after being there for only twenty minutes, she realized how bad of an idea it was to stay. As she got ready for bed, she kept thinking about him, wanting to talk to him to see if he still sounded okay. She fought her desire with all of her might. To make matters worse, she overheard conversations she didn't want to hear, conversations only family ears should be privy to.

"Dad no, I'm going," she heard Alexis say from downstairs. "I'm a senior, it doesn't matter if I show up anymore. I want to be there," she continued in protest. He didn't want her there. Why?

"Alexis I know you still have things to take care of. I'm gonna be fin, sweetie. The only thing you'll end up doing is sitting around until it's done, and we both know your hands don't do well idle." Beckett, careful not to make a sound, peered from behind her door, looking to see what she could. Regretting another decision, something inside her fell as soon as she heard sniffling. She leaned against the doorframe, pained herself.

"Let her come for the morning Richard," Martha started stepping in. "I'll drop her off when it's time for her to leave and pick her up after school."

His sigh traveled all the way to Beckett's ears. She shook her head at him. He conceded in silence, and with it Alexis kissed him goodnight, along with Martha. As she started the steps Beckett pulled herself back into her room, hiding herself from view. After the door closed, the conversation still continued.

"Darling you have to stop this," Martha whispered. Her voice differed largely from her usual tone. She clearly had her concerns too. "I appreciate the brave face for us but you can't lie to me, I'm your mother. Please, act like you know what you're getting into."

"We've had this conversation mother. I appreciate it, I do. Okay? But we both need sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Frustrated, she let out a heavy sigh of her own before heading upstairs as well. Every passing moment grew Beckett's concern. Should she talk to him? Should she confront his aloofness? What right did she have as his proxy to do so? As his friend?

She battled this as she tried to sleep that night, restless in her bed, fighting her mind to set her body at ease. After a couple hours she managed to knock out, but it only lasted for a short while. By four she was up, going downstairs for a bottle of water. When she stepped down the stairs, she failed to notice him in the dark, sitting back on the couch. He still sat wide awake, like he hadn't moved from the time Martha left. He recognized Beckett once she opened the fridge, startling her with her name.

"Dammit Castle," she said after grabbing a bottle and closing the door. He got up and walked over to the kitchen, taking a seat on the island. "Have you slept at all?" she asked twisting open her water. She made out a faint no from his lips, observant as she drank. She evaluated his state, his mental presence, where he was really. "Why are ya doin' this?" she asked. Her blunt delivery surprised him, an tone of anger underlying her words.

"What?"

"I heard you…earlier. With Alexis, and then Martha. They're worried, with valid concerns, and you're dismissing them."

"There are reasons for that," he said getting up to leave. Angered even more she went after him.

"_Rick_," she said pulling on his right arm. He turned, his eyes gleaming in the weak moonlight. She swallowed hard seeing it, continuing to clutch on his bicep. "You said you trust me. If there's something I need to know going into that hospital tomorrow, I need to know. Talk to me," she stressed.

He averted his eyes, then bowed his head, speaking in an even lower tone. "I didn't…I didn't stress to you how serious this is," he started. Her eyes leveled and lips thinned, bracing herself for whatever was next. "They're operating on my back…but it's close to my spinal cord."

"How close?" Her grip on his arm loosened as she awaited his reply.

"Enough."

–

The following day bore a difficult morning. All of them knowing what came next, they prepared in near silence aside from the opening of doors, drawers closing, cabinets banging, and so forth. The ride over, no one said a word. The seriousness of the occasion kept out any awkwardness, keeping the atmosphere more painful than anything else.

Arriving at the hospital, it took some time before he got called. After signing in, it was a matter of waiting to get rung up. When Martha and Alexis made a run for the cafeteria, Castle pulled Beckett aside, some shades of anxiety finally filling in his face. A pang reverberated inside her as her eyes scanned him from head to toe.

"I need to ask you something," he said, his tone trying to justify his hastiness. "If something happens to me–"

"–nothing will happen to you," her voice fought his. He shook his head at her, eyes curved in earnest, straight lips holding back any emotion trying to break out of him. "I'm gonna be fine. But if not–Alexis. I'm asking you again."

"I know. I will," she started. "But if you can prevent me from needing to do that, please do."

In a rush of emotions his arm wrapped around her for a hug. He held her as he held onto his tears, refusing to let them fall, even though they still did. She felt them drip onto her shoulder, managing to brush against the skin she had exposed. She closed her eyes to hold her own blood back, keeping them trapped under her lids. Neither loosened their grip until the nurse called for him. They both paused, exchanging looks of reluctance–him for going, and her for letting him go. The woman assured her she could stay with him after he finished pre-op, and only with this did she allow herself to release him.

After Alexis and Martha returned, all three girls sat in wait. He had yet to go under and this already felt awful. Thankfully, it took only about ten or so minutes before they could go back to stay with him. In the pre-op room they saw him joking around with the different nurses passing through to check on him, evaluate, and ask questions. Martha and Alexis took turns talking to him, but for the most part Beckett remained silent. Eventually the surgeon, Dr. Matthews, came to explain the procedure, doing her rounds to make sure they all felt secure about him being in her hands. When it time came for them to part, he still managed a smile, reassuring all of them again.

"It's gonna be okay," he said. "I love you," he said as both girls gave him a hug. "Can I have a minute with Beckett?"

They both nodded simultaneously before excusing themselves out of the room, Matthews included. Beckett approached him with meek steps, reaching for his hand when she drew near to his side. "You're gonna be fine," she said, almost convincing herself at the same time.

"I know," he said. He looked like he'd slipped into a daze the way he stared at her. "I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here. For doing this. Come here," he said beckoning her closer. When she bent her head, he went to hold her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Startled at first, she embraced it after, setting her fingertips lightly onto his face. It seemed like forever before she let go. Even after she kept her face close to him, scared to move away. "Just in case…" he whispered.

She shut her eyes, her voice weakened as she said, "Castle **no**…" Her voice faded out, knowing what he was feeling. A moment later Matthews interrupted them, causing her to pick up her head, but still gripped to his hand.

"I'm sorry Mr. Castle, you're due for the OR now." Struck by reality again, he nodded to her and the nurses walked in to send him off. One of the boys looked to Beckett and pat her shoulder to give more reassurance.

"Don't worry Mrs. Castle, we'll get him back to you soon enough," the young man said. Beckett's face turned flush, starting to correct him and let go of his hand, but Castle intervened, securing her hand again as they wheeled him out.

"She's not my wife Sonny, she's just very fond of me," he said with a smile. She lost his grip shortly after, and for the first time in what seemed as forever, she managed to grin, shaking her head as she watched him go off.

What worried her was how long it would last.

–

The hours dragged on. They passed, time somehow knowing to slow, to take its time. Beckett knew, because she counted the minutes. She counted every moment that died, relieved little by little. Every passing hour her breath trembled as it escaped her, the knowledge that another hour passed without a decision to make, without a choice to dictate. Eventually Alexis left, and Martha shortly returned after that. Together they waited, mostly in peace up until the last hour before they expected to hear word from the doctor. It was only then that Martha opened discussion with her.

"Don't you want to eat dear? You've been sitting here without so much as caffeine in your system."

"I'm okay, Martha, thank you. I'd rather just wait until he's out." A sigh escaped her in response, causing Beckett to look over with curious eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You confuse me, Katherine Beckett." Her stunned look and lack of response kept Martha going. "You are the only woman I've ever known to turn down what she wants."

"I just can't eat like this, it's not–"

"I wasn't talking about food, darling."

Her mouth opened to speak but it couldn't grab the words. She couldn't articulate her feelings–hell, she didn't know what she felt. It didn't occur to her what they were, that is until the doctor came out to speak about Castle.

She started out okay, but then Matthews began coaching them for news unexpected. "Sometimes there's an overdose on the anesthesia, and depending on the patient, they can metabolize the drug differently. In Richard's case, his seems to be taking longer than usual. For what reason we don't know why–"

"What are you saying Dr. Matthews?" Martha cut her off.

He wouldn't wake up. He couldn't wake up.

He was in a coma.

–

Matthews encouraged them not to worry despite how alarming the situation sounded. She assured them that they would do everything in their power to help speed the process, but they both couldn't help it. Alexis collapsed into a mess when she returned, and the boys encountered heavy shock when they dropped by.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Ryan said as he and Espo conferred with Beckett.

"That's what they keep tellin' me," she said looking back into the room. Both of them exchanged glances with each other as they noted her distance, absence from the rest of the world, what was going on around her.

The three girls stayed there that night–patient as they waited for some kind of sign for him to wake. Miserable faces, sullen, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, which were all fond of the floor or the ceiling. Beckett kept hers closed, eventually reaching a point where she couldn't look at him anymore. It hurt too much to see him like this.

With some time, Martha and Alexis fell asleep together on the sofa. Beckett took watch, pulling up a chair to sit close to him. She took his hand and sandwiched it between both of hers, bringing it to her face, closing her eyes as if in prayer. But she just talked to him, normally, like he could still hear her. She thought maybe he could. She thought that maybe…her voice could bring him back home, to all of them.

She hoped that more than anything.

"You shoulda seen Ryan and Espo. I haven't seen them that worried about you since the bank hold up," she said with a soft grin. It slid off her as she continued. "It was a different kind of worry this time though." She lifted one hand, tentative in her movement, and began to brush back his hair. Without warning, tears started to stream down her face. Was it the touch of him? Or seeing him like this? All she knew was the hurt. Inside her she had collapsed–a heavy darkness weighing her down, a pain moving in to govern her heart. So many thoughts overwhelmed her, and it all blurred out. "Don't do this," she pleaded through a hollow voice. "Don't do this to your mom…to your daughter. Don't do this to me, Rick. Fight it. _Fight back. _I might not have the right to ask you to…but please–still fight for me. I know it hasn't been easy to, especially for the last year…but I need my partner. Don't leave like this. Not like this."

Unable to speak anymore, she decided to sing to him

_High up above or down below_

_ When you're too in love to let it go _

_But if you never try you'll never know _

_Just what you're worth_

_Lights will guide you home _

_And ignite your bones _

_And I will try to fix you_

_The tears fell harder and swifter as she continued to serenade him…_

_Tears stream down your face _

_When you lose something you cannot replace _

_Tears stream down your face _

_And I… _

_Tears steam down your face_

_ I promise you I will learn from my mistakes _

_Tears stream down your face _

_And I…_

Still clutching his hand, she used her other to cup his cheek, lightly rubbing it with the pad of her thumb as she struggled to sing the last lines.

_Lights will guide you home–and ignite your bones…and I will try to fix you_.

With no energy left, she fell into sleep, holding him the rest of the night.

–

Waking up the next day, she absorbed the bright beams of sun casting through the window. It inhibited her sight for a few seconds before she saw him looking down at her. She sprung up in light of his consciousness, her mouth agape and eyes wide to fully process the moment.

"You snore, did you know that?" Instinctively going to hit him, she felt her hand she sought to use slip out of his, then stopping herself all together in realization.

She breathed out sharply, a smirk left behind on her lips as she stared at him. "You're okay," she heard herself say, processing it in her head over and over, convincing her mind again.

"Like I said, right?"

"Mm," she hummed with a slow nod. "Have you talked to the doctor? Do they know what did it?"

"No clue," he started while sitting up more,"but you know what that doesn't matter to me anymore. I'm fine."

She smiled, patting his hand in agreement. She felt herself holding her gaze for too long, but he didn't seem to mind. "I'm gonna call the guys, let them know you're okay."

After nodding at her she stepped just outside the door, going to call Ryan and Espo. As she listened to the dial tone, she heard Castle singing from the room. When she looked at him his eyes were closed, and he looked at peace. When she made sense of what he was singing, a tightness filled her chest–but not of fear, anxiety, anger, or any other worrisome type of feeling. It was something so much more, but inexplicable.

"Lights will guide you home…and ignite your bones…and I will try to fix you."


	17. Womb Nugget

A/N: Quick thing I did for a fandom promotion on tumblr. Fluff Friday for Castle. Prompt response, two actually combined, from Otp Prompts and Castlefanficprompts. Title came from one of the prompts LOL.

–

That effectively ruined my night," Kate said walking towards the bed. Rick observed her shivers and shakes as they pulled back the blankets. He grinned at her as they both climbed in, turning in for the night.

"It's horror, if it doesn't ruin your night then it didn't do its job," he replied while turning out the light.

"I know but…I don't know, _those_ kind of movies remind me of Hales."

"Oh God," he said sitting up. "Wh-why would you–Kate why, why would you say that."

"I'm being honest! She's that prime movie-demon-child age. She could totally do it," she said pulling the blankets up to her face.

"I hate you, I can't believe you said that."

"I can't believe you made us watch that movie."

They paused for a second, looking around, thoughtful of the movie again and then their daughter asleep upstairs.

"I'm gonna fall asleep first," Kate said turning around, nestling herself lower in the bed.

"Yeah, well I hope she comes for you first." As soon as he finished she pulled her arm out and slapped his butt, a simultaneous snicker spitting out of her.

For most of the night they both slept soundly, undisturbed. But around 4 o'clock, little Haley Castle managed her way down the steps and into her parents bedroom. She looked like a miniature Kate, the only minor difference in her lips–those were Rick's. She inched towards the bed, going for her mother, calling out to her in a timid whisper.

"Mama? Mama," she said at the side of the bed. Seeing her efforts make no change, she jumped ahead and got up on the bed, on top of Kate, and held her cheeks. Her hands so tiny and cold managed to wake Kate, eyes slow in opening, but widened as she processed what was happening.

"Hi mama," she said smiling. Though her expression conveyed mere surprise, internally Kate was fraught with panic, fighting the desire to scream and flip her child off the bed.

_Kate…don't. This is your child. This is your baby. She came out of you. This is not a demon. She came from your womb. This little nugget came from you. _

She convinced herself for a good minute before she took any action, but even then she moved with some reluctance. "What's wrong sweetie?" Kate said sweeping her hand through Haley's hair.

"I can't sleep," she said with a pout.

"Yeah? Well, now you and me both kiddo. Come here," she said carrying her to the middle. Haley slid herself almost all the way under the sheets, exposing just her eyes. Kate giggled at her, and kissed her forehead before going back to sleep.

"Night-night baby," she said.

"Night-night, mama."

–

The next morning Kate got up for an early run before going through with the family festivities for the day. When she got back she went to shower, before preparing breakfast for everyone. Rick was slower to wake, but when he did, he turned to face Haley still sound asleep next to him. He rose up with caution, staring down the person lying next to him.

"Kate?" he asked poking the little face. "Did they finally come? Is this what they did to you," he asked while ripping the sheets off of her. She woke with the rush of cold to her skin, her eyes cracking open with frustration, just like Kate's would.

"Daddy!" Haley shouted. Kate heard her from the living room and stretched a smile out of glee, secretly hoping Haley had scared him too. When she made it to the doorway, she saw him with a look of disbelief as the two both sat up in bed. He looked over at wife, then quick to his daughter, then back again to Kate.

"I thought it was you–I thought **they**–"he said pointing upwards.

"Yeah, no, _daddy_. But now mama knows what kind of movie to get next time she wants to freak out daddy, right Hales?"

Little Castle nodded as she rubbed her eyes to remove the sleepiness from them, Rick and Kate chuckling with joy watching her.

"I'm sorry for waking you up sweetheart," he said pinching her cheek. She just smiled at him before getting up to give him a hug.

"Oh come on baby, don't hug him," Kate started. "Don't you think he deserves something mean? Like…I don't know, a tickle fight?"

Kate knew just how to rally her daughter, because in a split second Haley started it out, with her mother to follow suit afterward. Rick allowed himself to fight back weakly, but after a little while he turned it around, securing them together as he tickled them.

If this wasn't bliss, Rick and Kate didn't know what was.


	18. For The Souls We Lost Before

**A/N: Fulfilling a headcanon of mine (nothing original I'm sure): Caskett, Ryan and Esposito visit Montgomery together on one designated day out of the year. Sometimes they do Father's Day, sometimes they do his birthday. Usually they go on the anniversary of his death. Every year they have something new to update him with. Some details may not be realistic, but they're just personal anyway.**

–

Rick woke to Kate fussing over the kitchen around eight. He managed to get little sleep the night before, but he knew his wife had it worse…he was sensitive to her tossing and turning, her moments of consciousness and moments of unconsciousness which were scrambled up, hazy, and just about the same as each other. Her rest was weak and he understood. He couldn't talk her out of it, or console her enough to rest well. She just had to pull through it.

Like they did every year.

In the kitchen, Kate vigorously cleaned up the counters, the sink, the floor, and everything else she could get her hands on. When Rick walked out, he saw her in her yellow gloves, hair slicked back into a lazy bun, and face polished with sweat. She cleaned with an absent mind–her eyes distant and wide like she looked beyond what lay before her. Even when he got near her she didn't notice right away.

One glance at him and she stopped completely. "Hey," she said.

"Hey. Whatcha doin'?"

"Just sprucing up the kitchen a little," she said looking around. As she did he walked close to her, starting to remove her gloves.

"A _little_ is a poor word choice hon," he said letting down her hair. "We still have a couple hours before we have to leave. Come back to bed."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Plus I have to get the kids ready," she said starting to shy away from him. He held onto her hand to stop her, brought her instead to the couch, lying her down as he kneeled beside her.

"I'll get them ready. Just try even for a half hour, hm? I'll wake you up with some time to get ready yourself. Or not," he said grinning. She clutched the collar of his shirt, eyes worn and weak but conveyed a look of gratitude. He kissed her hand and then her forehead like he understood. "It's what I'm here for."

As hard as it was, she did try to sleep, even for just a couple minutes...if that's all she could get.

The sun beat down bright when they arrived at the cemetery. No clouds in sight. It made for good weather, not worrying about how long they could stay before a storm hit, or if it got too cold, especially for the little ones.

RJ was five now, more insistent than ever to stay with his parents. He always asked the questions-ones particularly hard to answer and explain to him, but Rick and Kate did their best. Haley was nearing three, and with her smarts and mobility, she found herself in situations more often than older brother. Watching over them on such sacred grounds would be some task, but thankfully Ryan and Esposito loved looking after them too.

"There's our favorite guy," Espo said when they met up at the parking lot.

"Hey-I thought I was your favorite guy?" Rick asked opening the back passenger door.

"You were," Ryan started. "Like five years ago."

"Don't worry we still like you, sorta," Espo said. He swept little Castle up, looking at him, assessing how much he'd changed since the last time they saw him-even if it was only a week ago. "You gettin' tall man," he continued. Kate just smiled watching the boys with her boy, making eyes at Rick as he got Haley out of her car seat.

"Yeah," Ryan agreed, "soon enough you'll be able to come to work with us, show you the ropes, huh?" At their encouragement, RJ looked over at his mother with hopeful eyes.

"Mama can I? Can I go with Uncle Kev and Uncle Javi?" he pleaded.

Her lips scrunched, holding back a smile that she knew he might take as a sign of approval. "Someday, bud. We'll go together, so mama can make sure your goofy uncles won't get you into any trouble."

"Beckett!" They both said in unison. Before they could say anything else, she cut them off.

"Need I remind you of the taser incident?" she asked, arms folded and one brow cocked.

"I still have the marks guys," Rick said bouncing Haley and closing the door.

"Yeah, another reason why I need to be there. Okay?"

Ryan, Espo, and RJ all looked at each other before answering. "_Okay_."

Walking to the grave took little time as they all talked. When they reached it they all sat down, half a circle formed around it. Ryan set down the flowers and beer he'd been carrying against the tombstone, making sure the epithet could still be visible. A moment in silence passed, with the exception of Haley's babbles often hushed by Rick. Eventually they all started talking, like Montgomery was there with them.

They recalled the last time they visited, comparing it to the nicer day before them. About halfway through their last visit, an unexpected storm poured down on them, cutting it shorter than planned. Today was better. Perfect, as they all agreed.

Most of the news came from Espo and Ryan. Espo was now expecting his first child, and Ryan his third. They joked about the likelihood that they'd end up being born on the same day.

Kate took the responsibility to tell him about his family. She kept in touch as much as she could, making sure the girls were doing okay. She expected that they'd visit him today too, and give him more details than she could relay.

Most of the conversation relied on memories. "I remember when's," and "remember that time's." They spent an hour at least just talking about origin stories, first times, and cases that demanded going out for a "cold one" or two afterward. What made things all the more entertaining was trying to filter out any inappropriate topics whilst still continuing the story, for the sake of the kids.

For some time they escaped into a reality where he was still alive. Each of them formulated a response he might've said to the things they talked about, and more often than not their responses were all the same. He lived inside each of them. He went on that way. It became more that he was still alive, they just couldn't see him anymore.

As the minutes drew on, the emotions set in. They all knew the longer they stayed, the more likely they'd resort to tears. The first to fight this was Espo. He lead in being the first to leave-but not before patting the top of the tombstone. He bid the rest goodbye without a tear to shed, but they all knew in his own privacy he'd deal with his emotions.

"Are you sad for your friend Uncle Javi?" RJ asked when he went to leave. Espo smiled at him and pat his head before urging him to go back to Kate.

"I'm not sad for him, little man. I'm sad because he's not with us, but I'm happy that he can rest."

Ryan went next. He did let some tears fall, but he kept them controlled, flicking them away as they dropped from his eyes. He held the tombstone for a few seconds, nodding at Rick and Kate afterward. He managed a smile and wave at Haley, then a fist bump with RJ before he took off. "I'll see you guys."

The Castle's didn't leave right away. It happened this way most of the time. Kate would sit closer, Rick beside her, both of them trying to make peace with themselves.

Among all the memories they could remember, his last few moments with them stuck out above them all. Both softly cried, meditating on all of it, all of the pain that still haunted them. Kate held onto her boy, arms cradled around his neck as she leaned her head against his. He sought to comfort her, holding onto her arm and wiping the tears that trailed her face.

"You know why we call you RJ bud?" Kate asked looking at him sideways. He nodded no. "You are _Roy_ Jameson Castle."

"Just like him?" He asked pointing to the stone.

"Mmhm," she said, sniffling still. "Daddy wanted it that way."

The little boy looked over at his father, whose eyes were rimmed red also as he embraced his daughter for comfort. "Why daddy?"

"It's funny...when we first brought you home to everyone, even sometimes now, everyone sees RJ and thinks you're Richard Jr. But when you were born, I wanted you to have a great name, the best name, one people would see as a hero's. Him," he said pointing at the stone, "he is...the bravest man I've ever known."

"What did he do?"

"Well...a long time ago he helped save mommy. I know her because of him, and I still have her because of him. He protected her life with his. And you know how much I love mommy, right?" RJ just nodded. "That's why we named you Roy Jameson-because I'm so thankful for all he did, and because he's a hero to me." He looked at his son, the boy now looking at the grave more fondly. He stood up and walked over, going to the stone to trace his finger over Roy.

"That's so cool..." He muttered under his breath. Hearing him, Kate and Rick looked at each other, grinning with delight. "Does Haley have that too?" he wondered, his tone hopeful, almost worried that she didn't.

"Haley _Johanna_ Castle," Rick said with a tone of assurance.

"Like gramma Johanna?" he asked grinning.

"Yeah, just like gramma."

"She is the bravest woman _I've_ ever known," Kate added. RJ bugged out in amusement and amazement. But after a few moments he bowed his head, a pouting face as he walked back over to his mother. "What baby?" she asked opening her arms for him.

"I wish I could meet them," he said. The sadness in his voice pierced through both Rick and Kate, welling up their eyes again as they stood up to leave.

"We know bud," Rick said patting his hand on his son's shoulder.

Kate grabbed for his hand and said, "us too."

Late that night trying to relieve themselves with some wine, Rick and Kate sat together on the couch. Some residue of melancholy lingered, but they tried to move past it. For a while they ignored it by talking about other things, but eventually they came down to talking about what kept them up this time of the year...that night in the hanger.

"Do you dream about it still?" she asked. He smiled, but she saw the pain residing in it too. "Do you think we'll ever get over it?"

"I don't think it's something to get over," he started. "One time a year, with rare occurrences in between, were reminded of what happened that night. Why? Because we lost a friend. We lost a family member. A father. A brother. He died unjustly, and we will never swallow the injustice done to him. But we can revere his nobility, his death for a cause, his sacrifice to right a wrong. If we get over it, who will go on to tell of his heroic ways? I mean, did you see the look on your son's face? How happy he was to know that he's named after someone like Roy Montgomery?" She looked around her, thinking, pondering on her feelings.

"I just feel the responsibility. Years later it still...it still gets to me, you know? Don't you feel that?"

He sighed, bowing his head and lifting it up again with pained eyes. "Yes. I do. Those gunshots are with me, Kate."

"_Exactly_," she enthused, setting her glass down, "exactly my point."

"But he made a decision. He made a decision on his life, and he stood his ground defending what he believed in. You didn't put him in the line of fire, honey. He walked there himself, because he wanted to protect you."

"But they wanted _me_, Rick! They wanted me," she started getting hysterical, "my life, not his life." He grabbed for her hands to hold her steady, her muscles now convulsing with anger.

"I know. They wanted a life, yours, but they got his instead. And it's not because they couldn't get to you, or because you didn't stop them soon enough. It happened because he chose, he chose to stand in their way, because he loved you, like a daughter, and would rather die for something he did than for you to."

Her sore eyes bred more tears as he continued to calm her. "He called me there that night. He knew, he was so sure, he said to me 'Rick-I have no doubt I'm going to go tonight.' I insisted to go, to help him. He told me 'no, you're gonna come to protect her. You're gonna watch over her through the rest of this mess.' He made me promise that to him.

"He told me that you would blame yourself, but to never let you do it, because he expressed that he was choosing to make this stand. He said, 'somewhere along the way I know you two will be together, so until she finds and arrests the son of a bitch who killed her mom, you stand by her and guard her, and you never let her think for a second that any of this is her fault.'"

She just stared at him, looking for the story, looking for the lie, what he often used to cheer her up, but he was serious. He had said all those things to him, didn't he?

"Why are you only bringing this up now?" she said through a hollow voice.

"I figured I should save it for a bad trip. You were good today but...He said the guilt gets worse over time." She wiped her face before pushing him backward to lie down, joining him tucked under his arms and head under his chin. He pressed his lips with fervor over her head, snuggling her just a little bit tighter in his arms.

"How do you deal with the guilt?" she asked looking up at him.

"Well...I convince myself it happened for a reason. I remember that I had to respect his decision, and because of that decision, we wouldn't be where we are. I suffocate the guilt with gratitude-because I'm thankful for what he did. Always. When I wake up in the morning and I can look at you, I'm thankful. Or when I see RJ and Hales playing together in the afternoon, still thankful. What he did was the greatest gift I could ever ask for from anyone."

"What about my shooting? How does me getting shot and almost dying not negate any of it?"

"We got a lead out of that didn't we? It took time, but we did. And Josh saved you then, and I'm thankful for that too, but I'm sure as hell not naming any of our children after him."

A chuckle flew out of her mouth without warning, uncontrolled, all natural. He smiled too, but more for hearing the relief from her. She cleared her throat after, a weak smirk leftover on her face. "Everything led us to here, huh?" she spoke low.

"Don't you think so?"

She closed her eyes and bit her lip at the thought, images of the Captain running through her head. Some from the precinct, some from bar. But amidst them all, he was smiling at her. She smiled back, like he was standing right in front of her. "I still miss him. Every day."

"Me too...but he knows," he said closing his eyes.

And for the first night all week, they both managed to sleep well until the morning.


	19. With Time

A/N: I don't know what this is to be honest. Tumblr prompt. Season 4, post Cops and Robbers, Beckett overhears Castle talking to Ryan about…..

Beckett had been on her feet for the whole day. Up and down, left and right, not even five straight minutes to sit in her seat and relax her legs, no, not today. This case drilled the heck outta her, and for whatever reason, it kept her from stopping at all until she couldn't take it anymore.

She needed a chocolate break.

Taking a breather, she went over to the vending machines in search of a fix. Completely indecisive from the stress, she stared at the showcase of goodies before her for a solid five minutes, which quickly evolved into a hassle as she stared blankly at the glass. In a moments passion, she shoved the money into the receiver and punched the first numbers could, unaware of what would fall down. Closing her eyes, she dipped her hand into the slot and picked up a bag of trail mix.

_Oh, thank God._

As she went to get her water, she walked to the farther machine, but in the distance she heard two pairs of footsteps clattering against the floor, familiar voices trailing along. Slow in their steps, they gradually came to a full stop, though still fairly distant from where she was.

"Come on! She's great, you guys will be a hit," Ryan started. Whoa. Who would be a hit now? "She's got personality–she's funny, she's smart, she's witty, she's pretty–"

"Dude, you really think you should be talking about a woman in that way other than Jenny?" Castle said.

"Are you kidding, she's the one who told me to say these things." Off Castle's look he laughed and continued. "It's her friend. She really is great. Although I've only met her once so I can't really vouch for her more than what Jenny gave me."

Castle rolled his eyes, while Beckett inched closer to the corner of the wall, careful to keep out of sight. She was interested in his disinterest of this woman.

"I'm just not actively looking for anyone else right now, that's all."

"_Else_?" Ryan's voice jumped. "Oh, you mean someone else other than Beckett?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Seriously? You're gonna say that to the guy who's been here since the beginning? Who's watched you two chase each other and fall flat on your faces every year?"

At his words Castle planted a seat on one of the benches, realizing he'd have to tell him. "What do you know?"

"Everything we see…everything we theorize about you kids. Whatever Espo knows."

"So nothing," he asked with a laugh.

"Basically, yeah. Somehow I get the feeling there's more to this story that we don't know." She touched her fingertips to her lips, realizing where this was headed.

It took every bit of force from him to say it aloud again, but it still slipped out of his lips so weakly. "I love her, Ryan."

It wasn't the first time she'd heard those words, but it certainly felt like it. _Gunshot…pain…I love you_. That day just rang in her ears, fighting against everything else she could hear.

The silence between the boys hung for about a minute…and it seemed to be the longest minute that whole day. "Are you serious?" Ryan asked. His voice dropped down so earnestly. Castle just nodded. "Geez Castle…damn, does she know?"

"I think she does. I mean, I told her."

"When?"

"After she got shot."

"So at the hospital?"

Oh this was embarrassing. "No…I mean literally, right after she got shot, when I was on top of her–post tackle."

Another silence followed, but it built up to a response neither Beckett or Castle expected.

"Are you _kidding_ me? You waited to tell the woman you love that you love her until her very life was evacuating her body? Are you insane?"

The speed of his words shocked both Castle and Beckett. Castle stuttered, struggling to muster up the words to respond appropriately, but nothing came. Beckett just waited wide-eyed for the response.

"Okay, admittedly, not good timing yes, but I don't know…it wasn't that I didn't know I love her, it's just that I thought I had time, I guess. In that moment, I thought I would lose her, and I couldn't let her go without her knowing. I think she knows though. She might not remember it now, but in the moment she heard it. She had that smile of hers, you know, that cute one, just more subtle as she'd just been shot?"

Ryan looked in Castle with clear confusion, plainly saying, "I guess."

"If she does remember, but refuses to say, don't you think that means something?"

"Well if that's really the case, I think she has reasons. Maybe she needs to heal and deal with whatever it is she needs to heal and deal. Maybe she's not ready for that yet, or doesn't know how to even approach it."

"Or so she'll say," he added with a flick of skepticism. Though truthful, his words cut through her chest horribly. One day maybe he'd understand. She wanted him to…she didn't wanna lose him over this.

Ryan joined him on the bench, sitting down and laying back against the wall. He exhaled quick before speaking up. "Listen Castle…you know Kate. She cares about you. We all see that, and she can't deny it no matter how convincing she sounds. My God, the bank scare had her twisted up in her wits trying to figure out how to save you. You gotta believe she cares for you. A lot. So whatever she's doing, I'm sure she's trying to protect you in the process too. You love her, right?" Castle looked over at him, eyes a little tender and jaw a little hung. He just waited on Ryan. "Give her time. More than what you've already given her. Whether she remembers or not, still give her time. If it's meant to be, you'll both find your way in time."

A heavy sigh dragged out of Castle while Beckett listened intently off the corner of the hall. She leaned up against the wall, thoughtful over everything. She just reflected on all they said, wondering when…when she'd be able to love him.

And if he'd still be around when that time came.


	20. Above the Influence

**A/N: SOME MATURE THEMES. A prompt I saw via castlefanficprompts a while back. Beckett blames it all on the drinks…but he knows her tolerance better than that. He knows she's sober. This didn't go as I thought it would…Somewhere in season 2? I don't know, whenever works better for your reading pleasure.**

A night of partying was exactly what everyone needed. Friday night, celebrating Lanie's birthday, Beckett, Espo, Ryan and Castle trekked to a hall she rented on the farther end of the borough. There they met up with Lanie and her other friends under the flashing lights and beats, unleashing their drives to dissolve their stress from the past week.

Drinks were a must. All of them occupied one end of the bar, lining up shots in rows, throwing them back one by one. By the third shot, everyone shuffled towards the dance floor, giggling as they pushed their way through the crowd.

Castle trailed behind, watching everything come together. He eased his way in, scoping out the room, of course, looking for her. She was well out of reach, lost in the rhythm of the bass. Her hair swung around her, eyes closed, body swaying, immersed completely. He enjoyed it, in more ways than one. For a fleeting moment, he met her eyes across the expanse of the crowd, but it cut short when a woman passed through, urging him to dance with her.

He entertained it, unsure how else to react, and inched his way onto the floor. This brunette was definitely sexy, judging by the way she moved on him. She probably passed as borderline violent too. The way she grinded on him, getting as close as she could. She made an impression. However, not just on him, but Beckett too.

After watching them for a mere few minutes, she slid through the crowd towards him, landing a hand on the farther shoulder, and effectively shooed the woman away. The face she returned to Beckett conveyed such disgust, Castle couldn't help but laugh, sustaining a grin when Beckett met her face with him.

"She hounded you like she was gonna jump you," she breathed against his ear. Her voice stunned him for a few seconds, paralyzing his thoughts the second her breath caressed his skin.

"Thanks for looking out, partner," he mumbled back. She made eyes at him, smiling all on their own as they continued to dance. Occasionally her hand would slip down to his side, or he'd grab a hold of her hips. She'd turn around to hold him from behind, her fingertips raised to his cheeks, and the pads lightly pressed against them, while he barely held her waist, moving her to the motions of the songs. They played off each other well into the night, grabbing drinks together between breaks.

Everything stayed playful and harmless until a single impulse drove her to bend his head down into her neck–which he didn't fight. She kept him there, leaving him to begin _kissing_ her there, brushing his lips from behind her ear, all the way down to her clavicle.

The surge left his lips and radiated throughout her body, and shortly after she escorted him off the floor. They escaped outside a back door, and entered an alley, narrow in its space. He knocked her back and into the wall, but paused a moment, brushing the hair away from her face, assessing her eyes, her coherency. The same beautiful hazel gems looked back at him, expectant, waiting for him to charge.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Without further hesitation, he plunged into her, a hand on her neck and the other under her thigh, bringing her closer to him. She kept her hands at the back of his head, fists tight around his hair. The night was a cold one, but they couldn't feel the effects.

They experienced different kinds of shivers.

In a few minutes, it almost became a competition–edging each other out, into moans and groans. At first they used lips, but he broke the boundary when his hand slipped from her thigh, and closer inside her. She gasped, and her legs reflexively wrapped around his waist, rocking up and down with her hips as he slipped in and out. The rush of everything took so much out of her, she started to lose the battle. She choked out her gasps for so long before he offered his thumb, like he knew she was about to need it. She clamped down her teeth in release, convulsing against him, embracing him tighter with her arms and legs.

She rested her forehead against his, and he touched his lips to hers again. She held on for as long as she could, before collapsing in his arms.

"I'm tired Castle…" she dragged out in this little voice. Unsure of what to do, he fixed up her clothes first, along with her shoes, before standing her up against the wall.

"You wanna go home, Kate?" he asked. Her eyes stayed closed, but she nodded lazily, holding onto him for support. Holding her up with one arm, he called for a cab, and walked towards the front in wait.

He tried to keep her conscious as long as he could, but when they entered the cab she passed out completely. In the cab it was okay, but when they got out, he couldn't wake her.

Determined to not waste any time, he carried her out and hoisted her for piggy back, taking her all the way up to the apartment. Setting her down by the door, he fumbled around looking for her key. Grabbing it out of her pants pocket, she woke up for a second, slapping his cheek before falling under again.

"Oh _now_ I'm getting too touchy? You had no complaints earlier. Actually you were very vocal about–" he cut himself off, realizing how useless his efforts were.

Inside, he rested her on the couch. He took off her shoes and covered her with the blanket throw, curling up her legs to make sure all of her stayed warm. He sneaked one last kiss on her head before dipping out back into the night, the taste of her residing on his lips until the next day.

–

"So what happened with you and Beckett, huh?" Ryan asked the next day. Everyone got called in for a case, having to simultaneously mend their headaches from the night before.

"We had fun, Ryan. That's all. She told me she wasn't feeling well, so I walked her home."

Ryan and Espo exchanged looks of disbelief, but Castle extinguished them with a refined look and gesture of the hand conveying to leave things be. "I wouldn't make a move if I she wasn't aware." Before they could tease him any longer, they all stopped when they heard clicks, Beckett strutting toward them. She glanced at Castle and forced a smile, then returned her attention to the boys.

"Ice pack and trail mix, both of you, now," she directed at them. Her tone sent them moving with no hesitation, going for her hangover aides while she could talk to Castle.

"Hangover?" he asked. His tone, though subtle, teased her, almost questioning if it was true. She tended to her head by rubbing her temple, but she still managed a cracked smile at him.

"I think so. Probably attributed to why I don't go out as often as I could."

"You've built up a tolerance though, seemed okay last night. Do you remember much?"

"Um…I had fun. I remember that." Thinking on it more, she remembered to ask. Did you take me home?" He just nodded. "Thank you. I really appreciate that." Memories of the night flashed through her mind, and she couldn't help but smile, bowing her head in embarrassment. He smiled back, knowing she remembered, feeling the motions again, just waiting for whatever she had to say next. "That damn tequila, huh?"

"Mm," he nodded along. He stood up and started walking towards the break room for their coffee, eyes still locked on her. "We had a good time though, right?"

He turned away smiling, but she suppressed hers with all of her might.

They had a _damn_ good time.


	21. You're Every Word, You're Everything

A/N: My "Fluff Friday - Mother's Day Edition" contribution via Tumblr. Posting early for the U.S. because I know it's already Friday for other fellow members of the fandom.  
_

Kate entered sleep seamlessly just the same as she woke the Sunday morning of Mother's Day. Her eyes struggled to open against the sunlight, the bright beams startling her for a solid few seconds. _Was it that late already?_ She extended her arm beside her for Rick, groped around the flat surface of the blanket, and then turned to the side table for the time. In front of the clock rested a yellow envelope with her name scribed in her husband's handwriting, unmistakable. A grin tugged up a corner of her lips as she reached for it, brow cocked and eyes thinned out for whatever came next in reading the letter she pulled out.

_Good morning, you.  
I know it's Mother's Day, and this is probably terribly inconsiderate for me to ask, but I need a few favors from you today. Can you do a little running around for me? I promise it won't take long. You might even have a little fun with it.  
You'll figure out where to go next in these yellow envelopes I've sent out. This is your first one, and obviously, it's from me, the man whom you more than occasionally find next to you in bed. Not all of them will be though, so read carefully, and tailor your actions based on who writes to you. Micah's still six, and his handwriting isn't the best, so forgive him. (He made a point to tell me that and express it to you. He's been working on it.)  
So to start off, go shower. A real one, you know, like the ones you used to take that lasted more than a couple, few minutes. Don't rush, and pamper yourself (in whatever ways you wish dear, please), then dress up in your pretty and comfortable. You're going places today, alright?_

_I love you_

By the time she finished reading, her mouth cracked open into the widest smile. She set the letter down onto the bed and slipped into her robe before heading to the kitchen in search of energy. She needed her coffee if she would be as up and about as Rick mentioned. Striding out of the bedroom, the day hit her, and her smile grew faint until it faded completely. It distracted her for some time, but to block her musings, an aroma of a fresh brew found her nostrils, half a pot waiting for her with another yellow envelope tucked behind an empty coffee cup. She grabbed for it and tore it open, starting to pour herself a mug as she read again.

_You totally didn't listen to me, did you? I'm pretty sure I said shower first, didn't I? Oh don't act surprised like we both didn't know that would happen. Sixteen years, hun. You didn't marry no fool. Okay, sometimes, but you know what I mean.  
Well, if you're already here, drink away then. I got a special roast to sneak you an extra kick this morning. So chug it down, then get ready to head over to Rena's Cafe. Yes, you will be eating, so don't pack in those awful protein bars you insist on for our snack every morning. Sorry, they really are awful. I've been stashing mine in the boy's lunch._

_Love me still,  
Your favorite Rick _

What a goofball. Her wonderful, crazy goofball.

–

She didn't think of much walking into Rena's, an absence clear in her eyes, but upon entering, her line of sight immediately narrowed over to a familiar dame across the way. She stood out, decorated in some eccentric cloth style, but the hair, that copper hair gave her away.

"Martha?" Kate called out. Martha turned to reveal herself, and they both surged toward each other through the small crowd at the front. "Oh gosh, how are you? It's been too long," she said reaching for her hands.

"Oh you needn't tell me that Katherine, I've felt it every day being away from all of you. Richard told me to come here, but he mentioned nothing about seeing you. I'm glad he didn't." They embraced in reunion, squeezing just a little tighter than either of them expected.

Sitting down for a late breakfast, they caught each other up-to-date, discussing all the missed months between them. Between bites of their heavy meal, Martha enthused about her trip with her husband, telling stories about the Orient and the adventures they encountered while often lost in translation. Kate spoke mostly of Micah, showing pictures and videos of his most recent activities: t-ball games, piano recitals, and to Martha's delight, a school play.

"My, my, what a little leading man. Please tell me you and Richard saved a copy of the whole play?" Her eyes widened and brows raised, the hope hanging off her voice. Kate giggled at her expression, nodding in assurance.

"We saved you your own copy, at home ready to be picked up." Martha closed her hands together and breathed out, the joy setting her face aglow. Kate tried to flag down the waitress with her hand before she continued. "So this world tour, is it finished? Will you be coming home to us for good soon?"

"Very soon," Martha replied. She gazed at Kate, reaching out a hand to stroke her face, a motherly warmth running under her thumb. "You seem to bloom more and more every time I see you, darling…such a gift Richard has given me."

"He's passing this off as his gift to you today?" she asked with a smirk.

"He said I'd get a surprise yes," Martha started. She reached down for Kate's hand and folded it into hers. "But I didn't mean just for today, sweetheart." At her words, Kate's eyes softened. She held them on her mother-in-law uninterrupted until their waitress came over.

"Yes?" the young girl asked.

"Can we have our check please?" Kate said as she fumbled around for her money.

"Oh, it's already taken care of." Kate exchanged looks with Martha before they returned their eyes at the girl. "You're Mrs. Castle, aren't you?"

With a quick nod, she stopped. Her lips scrunched as she slowed another couple nods before glancing back at Martha, biting her upper lip in.

"Oh he's good," Martha said before sipping her drink.

"He also told me to give you this," the waitress said handing Kate the third letter. Receiving it she wasted no time and ripped through it, revealing Rick's handwriting again.

_Hi there.  
You enjoy breakfast with mother? I hope so. I can't tell you how many times she talked about getting to sit down with you after coming back. She almost passively demanded it, not so subtly hinting at how she barely gets to talk with you anymore. I'm not enough for her, I understand. It's okay. I just need your love right? Babe number one?  
Make sure you grab her envelope before she takes off. She's gonna forget. Trust me._

_Turn this around after you read hers.  
_

"Martha, do you have an envelope like this?"

She stared at Kate's hands for a second before epiphany struck, causing her to dig away in her purse. "I have it somewhere here–yes, this," she said pulling on the corner of it. Kate chuckled to herself as another "Castle prophecy" fulfilled itself. Martha offered out the envelope while standing to leave. "Listen darling, this was absolutely lovely. Perfect Mother's Day. Unfortunately, I have an appointment in fifteen minutes a little ways out from here so I should get going. I look forward to seeing you soon." She wrapped her arm quickly around Kate before biding her goodbye and taking off.

After watching her walk out, Kate's eyes returned to the letter before her, and this time read Martha's writing. It didn't even seem addressed to Kate. Had she known what it was for?

_Oh, the many memories I have of Katherine. So many cling to me, one single experience cannot possibly include all the joys she's brought to my life. However, one does stick out above the rest that's relevant for Mother's Day. Rena's Cafe.  
I distinctly remember going out for dinner, all four of us, as the oven still needed some repairing after the pie incident…we ate out at Rena's, and Alexis was out of her usual range, almost on edge throughout dinner, reaching the verge of her angry tears. I watched Kate coax out the problem–not just the surface one, but the underlying cause for it, and all the feelings attached. I can't recall anymore what the issue involved…but she worked her beautifully, just gorgeously with Alexis.  
I remember it always because in that moment, I realized the mother she would be for my future grandchildren. She was already there. She was there with Alexis, right in that moment. My heart raised right out of my chest as I watched her reach for Alexis' with such care and compassion. I looked on them like a little girl eyeing a cosmic eclipse for the first time. From that moment on, I longed to see her fully step into motherhood. All that was missing was a child of her own. She was already there._

Kate casually flicked away her tears, watchful of passing customers as the face of Alexis from that night surfaced into her mind. _School, it had been school_, she thought. That had been so long ago, even before she and Rick were married. Oh Martha…such a sweet soul.

Reeling with flutters all throughout her stomach and chest, she folded up the letter and held it to her heart, stowing it away in her jacket pocket for safekeeping. Breathing out, the fullness of her stomach became more evident as she finished off her coffee. She went to read the rest of Rick's letter with a new drive, an eagerness to continue moving in this run around he set before her.

_Look under the table._

She looked around, reluctant, and bent down to look, finding yet another sealed yellow envelope taped to the underside of the table. She peeled it right off, opening it to read the next letter. This time, she read in Alexis' handwriting.

_Kate -  
How are things so far? I hope you know you're just getting started. Before we go any further, you need to stop by somewhere, at a place within walking distance of Rena's. Go north for a bit when you walk out the front, and you'll remember First Ladies Spa, the one Lanie religiously took us to that one summer. The staff is waiting. Look out for the next envelope there too._

_With love,  
Lex_

"Just getting started, huh," she muttered to herself.

–

The need for the deluxe package at the spa didn't quite process until she fully immersed into it, getting treated on every inch of her to relieve those knots she accumulated running around in the normal day to day. She forced her lips together, mindful on the moans she'd surely make if she allowed her mouth to remain open. Too good, way too good. Almost better than Rick's massages, just without the happy ending.

Nearly two hours she stayed, coming back to reality only when they instructed her to. She gained back parts of her body, aware of her skin again with every bit of tension extracted from it. She stumbled around getting dressed, dragging her feet as she made her way to the front lobby to leave. She stopped by the counter to pay, but of course, she only received another yellow envelope.

"Mrs. Castle did you enjoy your stay?" The clerk asked. She just offered a smug face and gesture of the hand, her eyes steady on the familiar paper she tore through once more.

_Now that you're all relaxed, it's time we have a little fun, right? There's a place in Long Island City you took me before, and we've never been back since. I think today is the perfect time to remedy that. A town car waits for you outside the doors to drive you there–I'll be waiting to team up with you against our rivals, as they're waiting as well. _

_See you soon Capt,  
Little Castle_

She racked her brain, filtering through the places she'd taken Alexis over the course of the last five years. Where? Where would she–wait. Only one place, just one stuck out.

Laser Tag.

It looked just the same when she arrived, just as extensive and just as intense comparative to their first visit. Entering the building, her eyes scanned around, cautious stepping inside. The silence led her to believe that maybe she got the wrong place, but before she could motion to leave, Alexis emerged all suited up, carrying the vest and gun for Kate.

"Hey Mama Castle," she greeted. "Mama Ryan and Private Sarah-Grace are waiting for us, as is the enemy. Are you ready?"

Kate reached for the equipment, a poker face settled over her as she slung on the vest and readied the gun. "No mercy," she hissed as they entered the briefing room. Inside, Jenny and Sarah-Grace stood by the arena door. Kate greeted and hugged them both, before signaling to all three girls with a nod. "Give them no reason, girls."

They waited on the game runner to explain the rules, then for the buzzer, and on its alarm they all busted open the door, charging for their own positions, watching out for the boys. Kate scoped out the room, her steps light and her body fluid as she ducked in and out of corners, eyes darting around in search of the enemy. Peeking out, she spotted Ryan about to shoot Alexis, so she pulled back her trigger, landing a fatal hit on his chest. He turned on his heel to spot the person responsible for his first kill, but she bounded out of sight before he could catch her.

She roamed to find the other boys, listening for the lasers shots and for the executed kills. Everyone's voices ricocheted throughout the room, all except for Espo who never failed to elude her, unscathed throughout a whole game, but with plenty of kills on her. She set her mind on pursuing him, but didn't anticipate the double team of Garett, Alexis' fiancé, and Micah.

"Mama, I'm gonna get you!" Her little boy sang when he spotted her for the first time.

Screams and shouts filled the battlefield, but not more than the laughter that broke out between all of them. Positions were given away and safe spots eliminated with ease. More than halfway through, Kate abandoned everything, swept up her son, and knelt down to proceed tickling him, blowing raspberries on his neck until he surrendered.

"Where is he, baby?" She asked still holding onto him. She concentrated her voice into his ear, keeping it hushed between them. "Where is Uncle Javi?" The little boy's face shifted in place, a grimace setting in as he stood up, pulling his mother along to reveal Espo's spot. When she spotted him, he had still tucked himself out of reach, so she lifted Micah onto her shoulders, handing him her gun to finally carry out a hit on the sniper. With one shot, her son disabled Espo, who cried out in shock after seeing his teammate on the end of the trigger.

"Micky, what're you doin' boy," he said throwing his hands up.

"I'm sorry, Mama got tuh me!" The boy pouted. When Espo stood up to see, Kate blew on the tip of the gun hanging beside her head, a sly grin and raised brow teasing him.

The boys won only by a handful of hits, but the sting of betrayal hung over them as they exited into the front. "Boy, you're dad is gonna hear about this," Espo warned as they huddled together outside.

"_No_," Micah stressed, his lips curved tight, dragging out the O in protest.

"Come on bud, you think mama's gonna let anything happen," Kate intervened. Espo played a glare, but a smile overtook his lips when he watched the littlest Castle cuddle up to his mom, sticking out his tongue as she did.

They all exchanged hugs before leaving, going off to their own celebrations of Mother's Day. Even Alexis made her goodbyes for the night, explaining that her and Garett would go to pick up Meredith from the airport for a late dinner. As she went to leave, she left her envelope and a kiss goodbye for Kate.

Waiting for the town car to pick them up for the next destination, she took a seat to read the letter. Reading it, she noticed Micah's eyes looking over with her, struggling to read along. She ran her hand over his head as her eyes ran over the words.

_Kate -  
You remember now right? You surprised me with this one weekend. You took me and dad, the boys, and Lanie, and we duked it out in a full on boys vs. girls war. I cried a whole bunch that night, only because I howled with laughter with you for most of it.  
Of all the memories we've had, it's one of the simpler ones, but it still means a great deal to me. This night, you reminded me what family could feel like. I've often lost that feeling some days along the way, but you always knew when and how to bring it back to me full force, in ways just like that night. I keep those kinds of memories with me every day, and I will continue to to serve as a reminder for when I start my own family.  
You know, I know it's Mother's Day, but the funny thing is that you're not a mother for me, and not for reasons you might think. We have something much different than that relationship, something more special, and it's maybe just a little better. Today, I celebrate what we have, and express my thanks to you for all you do for me. You've proven that I don't need blood to determine how much you mean to me… because that's not at all what family is. You showed me that family is whoever sticks around, whoever shows up, and whoever chooses to love both the good and bad in you every single day.  
Happy Mother's Day, Kate. I love you–please don't ever forget that._

_Your Lex_

When she teared up this time around, Micah sprang to her aid, a wave of concern throwing him around his mother's neck. "What's wrong, why are you crying?" he asked. Wiping her eyes, she shifted him onto her lap, locking his neck with her arm, keeping him close to her.

"I'm okay, baby, I'm fine. Your sister…she's just, she's very sweet."

"Are you gonna cry if you read mine? I don't want you to if you will…"

Just as she went to speak, the car pulled up, and the driver beckoned them over. Hand in hand the two walked, got in, and proceeded back to the borough. She recollected her thoughts after they got moving again. "Where's your letter?" she asked, turning to her son.

"Daddy said not to give it till we get to the swings."

_The swings?  
Oh…yes. Of course. The swings._

–

Exiting the car, they both glanced over at the festival nearby. Jazzy notes spilled into her ears as she absorbed the scene before her–booths and food cars stationed around, serving goodies to all the passing people. In the distance, she noticed the swings, their vantage point perfectly aligned with the concert. Thankful she could see and hear it, Micah paid no attention, just ready for the swing set. When his eyes registered where they sat, he flew over, Kate dawdling behind to the rhythm of the music.

How long had it been? She hadn't made it out for some time, even without Rick. Maybe one other time, but the memory wouldn't clear just yet. When she took her swing, yes _her_ swing, the years flew by in her head, images flickering in and out while she closed her eyes. She saw just the last time with Rick, when she gave him the news about Micah. Now here she was, some six years later, about to sit with her little boy.

After a moment or so settling in, he handed her the letter, swaying in his father's spot as a perfect substitute. His legs were still far too scrawny to power a good momentum, so she bumped his seat forward, propelling him into a strong glide back and forth as she read his letter.

_Mama -  
Thanks Mama. I'm so happy your my Mama becase your the best mama…I love you alot. Always be my mama. I don't want nobody else. They can't be you. I Just want you as my Mama, forevar! How was your day? Was it gud? I love you :)_

_Love,  
Micah Allan Castle_

Her eyes flicked sideways to see him furiously pumping his legs, admiring him as he soared towards the burning sky, advancing up and retreating back with such fervor that he might've flown if he let go completely.

When she turned the paper around, she found more writing, but this time her husband's again.

_He wanted to write more, but we're still honing his skills. It took him an hour to perfect that. At this point, I'm not sure if that means me, or you leaking out. So be the gentle soul that you are if he asks you your thoughts about it. I helped on the storytelling as he, like the rest of us, had his own tale of you to share.  
One memory he cherishes happened here, right on our swings. You'd taken him for the first time after school one day, and planted him on the seat, showing him how to pump his legs and swing. You didn't get to stay long to avoid getting rained out. I never told you, but when you both came home that night, he said to me, "dad, mama taught me tuh fly!"  
For a while I thought it mattered so much because of how it made him feel. He talked about it more than either of us ever realized, but it hit me afterward that it had more to do about you. About you and your mom, more than about him. He'd asked me questions about her, what I knew, because you had told him that she was the one who taught you "how to fly." It stuck with him, rooted in his head. And I think he knew. He saw how much it meant to you. So it meant so much more to him._

_We have a pretty damn good kid, don't we?_

Instant tears, again, meditating on all of it, on her mother, on Martha, Alexis, her boys. But airy chuckles escaped her too, chest filled to the brim with such gladness, impossibly containable. When she looked back at him, she caught glimpse of her husband…his warm smile spread across her little boy's tiny face. In certain light, she spotted the profiles of Rick in him, more and more as he aged. He drove her crazy, good crazy, just as much as his dad.

Rick reaffirmed that belief when he snuck up behind her, grabbing onto her seat and plowing her forward, evoking a brief, high pitched scream as he brought her back down to level. He chuckled at the flustered look she shot at him, but her lips spread out after a moment or so.

"Hey–it's still Mother's Day, I don't want nunnathat," she pointed a finger at him, bending her head back.

"Oh you're gonna use that card? That's null and void in a few hours, you wait." She pursed her lips and tossed a glare, thinned greens piercing into his blues.

"And what have you been up to, partner?" she asked.

"Waiting for you, and geez, you took forever," he said, then planted small kisses on her lips for a few seconds. "You tired now? Ready to turn in?"

"No, actually. I'm…I'm good. I'm–I'm great," she said, a wide grin breaking into her words.

"Good," he started. "Then let's go."

"Where we off to now?"

"Micky's off to mom's, and we are off to home."

–

"Gimme ten minutes," he said stopping her at the door.

"Ten minutes?" she exclaimed. "For what–"

"You will see!" he replied, throwing his hands forward to calm her down. "Just wait–I'll-I'll be back."

She rolled her eyes playfully, waved her hand permitting him to go in without her, and waited for the length of the ten minutes. She timed it right on her watch, and without another minute to pass, she stepped in through the door, choked as she absorbed the foreign setting in front of her.

Above her, an array of mason jars hung from the ceiling, wielding candles inside them, swallowing her in a sea of golden light. The furniture had all been moved–where to, unclear initially before she spotted his study, filled with all their things–and in their place, white, yellow, and red rose petals scattered all around. They left an empty pathway straight to one red comforter, stretched in the center of the room, accompanied by a bottle of wine and a tiny book. When Rick reappeared, the music trailed in, flooding the air, replacing the silence with guitar strums and piano key strokes.

"You really couldn't wait one more minute for me to finish lighting these damn things," he asked stepping towards her. "I would've done it before I brought you, but I thought it'd be a bad day to burn the place down."

"Castle this…this is gorgeous, it's stunning, it's–"

"–what, like you?" he said moving her towards the blanket. She suppressed a smile with great struggle, her eyes searching for his, latching on with a tenderness she couldn't resist. "I sent you running around so I could get this all done and…you're surprised," his initial thought went interrupted, and added a knowing tone to his observation. He noted her gaze, still observing the room, eyes questioning the reality before them.

"I just–today was already so–I don't know," she grappled for words. "You totally spoiled me today."

"Do you know why?" She had some ideas, but none of them warranted the day's affairs, not any of it. Her lack of response led him to pull her closer, laying her back against his chest as he also reached for the tiny book. He nestled his chin onto the base of her neck, wrapping her with his arms, splitting open the book to the first page. "I know they said love keeps no record of wrongs, but I don't think they said anything about counting rights."

Her eyes skimmed through, trying to make sense of what it was that she read, but after the first two pages, clarity took command. He'd journaled little acts in her motherhood, arbitrary events that fell out of her head long before, detailing the moments and his reactions to them. She took it from him and thumbed through, both of them taking turns reading aloud the ones he pointed out, with her voice often wavering as she advanced through the entries, all the many pages he had filled.

_You still don't believe me, so I'm writing it down for written record. We conceived in the storage closet at the work party, not in the Hampton's. If you're denying this to protect our child in the future, okay. You're a great mom already. But come on, you and I know the truth, hun. And honestly, if he's got a combination of our thinking skills, you know very well that he can figure it out for himself._

_I caught you talking to him about Alexis today when you went down for a nap. You assured that he had a big sister waiting for him, and that she'd be there to watch over, to love, and to teach him, guiding him in ways maybe you and I can't. You're five months…but you're so convinced he knows, that he understands. I'm counting on you to be right. You usually are anyhow. Wow, there's this impending feeling of regret for saying that. If you love me you'll never use it against me in future arguments._

_You're such a trooper. My girl is a damn trooper. All those hours you endured, and you're still smiling, you're still laughing and joking with me. Even all flush and sweaty. It's kinda sexy, but more beautiful. I wish I could show you just how good motherhood looks on you._

_You were half asleep, but I wonder if you'll remember…you sang some random lyrics lying down on the couch with the boy earlier. He stirred a bit when he lied on your chest, but calmed down whenever something slipped out of your mouth. Those nights you spent singing while pregnant paid off I'm guessing. Now we know our weapon to assure we all can get some sleep. You know something else? Your voice is just as gorgeous even when you don't know what you're saying. I'm kinda hooked on it, hooked on you._

Kate flipped through, the years of raising their child coming back to the forefront, seeing his recordings of the heartache, the stress, the labor, the tears, the laughter, the joy, and everything else, all she did for Micah, and the family as a whole. Rick had awfully good attention skills, keen over the small things she frequently believed went unnoticed, proving her wrong each opportunity he had. She read on, baffled and in awe of every moment he captured in ink. As she furthered in the book, she landed on the most recent entry, and started out just reading in her head, but he nudged her, encouraging her to read it aloud too.

"Watching you with Micah…I can't help but think about your mother sometimes. Especially times like today. She'd have–" She cut off for a second, biting onto the words, her tongue reluctant to let them fall out. "She'd have loved to see you like this, doing the things she used to for you with her grandson.

"She's still alive though, in some way. I know her through you, in the things you do, in all the love you shower over us constantly. Your impact on every member of this family stands as a testament to the work she did on you, raising you, molding you to become the woman I love returning to at the end of each and every day. She's proud. I'm proud. Every day we are. Being me, I'm doing what I can, still trying to find ways to repay you for all you do for us. I promise, it doesn't stop with today, or tomorrow, or next week. I'll keep showing up. I'll be here, right beside you. Always. Happy Mother's Day, sweetheart. I love you."

She closed the book, and froze in place, uncertain of what to do. Exhaling sharply, and leaving a smile behind on her lips, a rush overwhelmed her for a moment. She turned to face him, cheeks glistening in the low light as her hands raised to his neck, and rubbed it to occupy the time she took to gather words. None came.

"I thought about her today. I imagine you must've too, a lot," he offered up. She shook her head as she wiped the flow of her tears.

"Not in that way though. Maybe at first, but I just…As the day went along and you spelled out everything, I just didn't put together what she did for me then, and what I do for Micah now. Me and her are one in the same."

"You're a wonderful mom, Kate. Not just for her though, but for you. She may not be here to guide you through each step, but we've made it this far right? From what our parents showed us and for finding things out on our own. For me and you being _me and you_. That, that is why we did today, for you," he clarified. "And I know we gifted you just words–" he started to dismiss, but she stopped him dead.

"No–no, okay? They're not just words. Words are never just words. You taught me that." She took a long breath, still having trouble doing it properly. One hand swept his hair back, her thumb grazing his jaw as she just stared into him. "I love you. I love so much, you know that?" her voice shook. "Thank you. For this–for everything."

He brought her down onto her back, one hand on her neck and his other tucked around her. His face neared hers, just barely skin to skin, the tip of his lip tracing over hers as he spoke. "Thank you for being everything."


	22. Friday, I'm in Love

A/N: Short little thing. Headcanon fic. Every Friday morning when they're not too busy, Beckett drags Castle down to the precinct early to spar with her in a couple rounds of kickboxing. Rated T? Sure.

* * *

"Those eyes may be closed, but don't think I don't know you're awake," Beckett said walking across the room. She had already slipped into a white tank and yoga capris, hair slicked back into a messy bun as she packed her toiletries and extra clothes for work. Castle lay flat on the bed, head burrowed into his pillow with his hands underneath, clinging for dear life not to be ripped out of his comfort just yet. "You haven't moved since I got up."

"What? Am I really that bad?" he asked lifting his head. Zipping her duffel bag she just smiled, eyeing him a bit before answering.

"I'm now convinced your constant movement, it's all your questions trying to wake you up."

After making a face, he planted it back down into the pillow, resisting her pull again. She walked over and sat on his side, rubbing her hands up and down his back before nestling her chin by his neck, whispers flowing out, seducing him to wake.

"Babe come on," she urged him. "This is the hardest part. We've done this a bunch. You know once we're goin' you'll be okay."

"Thuh shon izzn ewhen uhf yeh," he protested into the pillow.

"No, the sun isn't up yet, but I wanna get there early to reserve the mat just for us." He wiggled a bit, still refusing to make any movements that required leaving the sheets. "Unless…" She dragged out her words, knowing he'd surely shoot up and start moving. "…unless you want someone else to spot me, you know, being all heated and…wet."

He flipped onto his back, eyes widening to keep out all sleepiness, and set a hand atop her thigh. "No–right, I'm-I'm there, I got you babe." He blinked hard, twice for good measure, fighting the desire to even close them anymore. She touched a hand to his cheek as she smirked, then met his eyes, nodding to further encourage him to get up. Grinning bright at him, he managed one back the moment she flashed it into his eyes.

And it was that moment the morning's darkness washed away in her glow, warmth pouring over his body to remind him he didn't need the sun.

–

"Are those new?" Beckett suited up her hands over on the mat, watching Castle walk in with his dark gray beater and red shorts, shorts that draped quite perfectly over his…assets.

"I haven't had the chance to whip 'em out yet. It's been a while," he mused as he walked over to her. Grabbing for her hands, he went and wrapped them himself, careful and concentrated as he weaved the cloth between each finger.

"When was the last time?"

"For what," he said, securing the wraps on both hands. He watched her fingers flex a couple times before walking over to their duffel bag to grab his gloves.

"Oh you know, when I last kicked your ass," she called out. Slipping into his gear, he shot a glare, pursing his lips as he strode slowly back over.

"Such _fighting_ words, Detective."

"Am I wrong," she teased, stepping up into him, just a few inches from his face. He didn't look so tired anymore.

"You–well, no," he said. Off her growing smile he continued. "But-but–_that_ was another day. Today is today, not another. And today we will end this with me over you…or on top of you."

"Okay then Mr. Semantics," she said tapping her fists on his. "My husband might request you weigh easy on me, but don't think much on it. He forgets how rough I take it."

"We still talking about kickboxing?" he said as they backed away from each other. She bit back a smile as they assumed their stances, beginning to circle each other.

She threw the first hit that led to a successful series of hits, but he countered her surprisingly well on about fifty percent of them. She grinned at his blocks, and he smiled at all of her blows, wincing in pain, but still admiring her for every one. Each moved swift enough, fluid enough, and to the average eye, you'd see it, believing it to be just a decent fight.

However while first a battle of technique, it also possessed great energy and grace, like that of some dance. In each swipe, each hold, each toss or flip, their moves together flowed in a continuous burst of passion – one deep inhale and one longer exhale of breath, unbroken all throughout. The rhythm continued to surge through them as they executed their moves on each other, their groaning, heaving, and panting the soundtrack to their footing.

"Your stamina's improved," she managed in between blows. She dominated him for a bit, but he deflected her last few taps to muster up a reply.

"You can thank my wife for that," he breathed out.

An airy chuckle flew out her mouth as she maneuvered her way over him, nearly locking him into the intended angle to finally nail him, but with one brush of his fingers along God-knows-where, her torso stunned, immobilized for a few seconds before descending flat on her back. Mouth split open, she choked a little, but not out of as much pain as she expected. He dropped down, catching himself with his hands before crawling over her, pinning down her body with the full breadth of his, securing her there. Assessing his smug face, too sly and satisfied, she wagged her finger at him, his stunt echoing from a long night together just a couple weeks back.

"We said nothing about those moves," she said gathering her breath.

"Yeah, we established nothing. So since nothing was said, I thought any move was fair play."

"Well you're wrong," she insisted, suppressing a smile. "This is not our bedroom, Castle."

"True. Except it doesn't matter where we are, you realize I know your body much too well and I can't help that. It's like a reflex!" She shook her head in response while he wiped back her strands of hair, matted with sweat against her flushed skin. Despite both their wear, both fashioned pleased faces as they lay still on the mat.

"Round two?" she asked, tracing her thumb along his jaw.

"If you're looking for another beating, yeah," he said. Shaking her head again she scrunched her lips, letting her hand slide down his neck to hook the collar of his shirt.

"I was um–thinking more along the lines of the storage closet," she started. Her eyes flicked down towards where their bodies linked up, curve to curve, heat rising in between, before dragging those greens back up to meet his blues. "You know, so you can remind your wife _just how well_ you know her body."

With wide eyes, he blinked hard, finding the strength not to prove it to her right then and there. _Damn_ did he love her. "Oooh. I like that."

"Yeah? Me too," she said laughing, pulling him down for a kiss. They exchanged warmth for a moment, but after a second, she broke off, pressing his chest up. "Can we just–remember to check for each other's clothes this time?"

He lowered his head, eyes narrowed at her look toward him. "You're tellin' me? Seriously? Have we forgotten who left their bra to be confiscated and never seen again? And I _liked_ that one, it was perfectly–"

"If I came forward it would've exposed both of us," she defended. He furrowed his brows, holding his firm gaze on her.

"Yeah and whose fault is that? Lost bra versus exposure. Neither would've been a problem if you'd just remembered–"

"Will you just shut up and let me kiss you," she said gripping his neck. Without another word he obliged, and dove for her face once again, doing the dance they did best together.

And it tasted like the sweetest love on a Friday morning.


	23. Drained

**A/N: 3x24/4x01 missing scene - Castle in the ambulance with Beckett. TW? For death and blood? Well obviously not complete death but…yeah I'm bad at this. An attempt to try and clean up the mess of my brain with these little drabbles.  
**

* * *

_Kate – I love you. I love you, Kate._

Had she heard him? She had to. That smile–there was–that hint of–something–

God, would he see her smile, even just like that, ever again?

Every scream, cry, all swallowed up into the silence wrapped taut around Castle's head. Still bent over he held on, tending to her limp body with his hands that had yet to recover from the fall just moments before. They trembled over her chest in shock, stained with the life draining out readily onto her clothes, blots of the kind of red he always wrote of, but never thought to touch. Not like this. Not in this way. Not with her.

He fought to stop the flow, pressing against her wound, but he couldn't bring himself to do it harder in fear of hurting her.

"Kate no – no," he whispered. Though her burned greens had turned back from him, he desperately hoped his pleas would come through to her, to reach in her mind, to implore her to keep fighting. She had to keep fighting. He couldn't let her go like this…he _wouldn't_ let her go like this.

"Castle–" Lanie breathed out. She dropped to the ground next to him, urging him to let her take over. He wanted to pass it off to her, but his hands refused to move. They still shook while planted, locked on, his body convulsing with simultaneous surges of fear and anger as her face continued to drain. "Honey-honey I know, but you have to–"

He peeled off of her as Lanie replaced him, struggling to keep Beckett going as they awaited the EMT's. Castle just watched. He'd fallen back, looking on the sight before him in disbelief. His jaw tightened, teeth clenched, fingers dug in, with eyes only fixated on her face…her beautiful, gorgeous face. Lanie had to do what she could, but all he wanted was to hold her – to cradle and keep Beckett warm, away from anymore hurt or agony that she could go through. She wasn't conscious, yes, but he wanted to do it. He wanted to do it for her.

For the woman he was in love with. He…he loved her. He said it, he'd said it out loud.

He _loved_ her.

The squeak of the gurney snapped him back, a rush of reality washing over him with the chaos still surrounding them. He shot up with an eagerness in his step to follow the next move, to follow her, to make sure she stayed alive. Approaching the ambulance, he waited as they hoisted her up and in, and just as he went to join, one of the men halted him.

"Wait no," Lanie broke. Her eyes curved in earnest, and the tenderness in her voice reached off her lips to vouch for Castle. "Let him, please it's his partner–let him go."

Castle kept down, head hung as he reluctantly obeyed the hand of the medic, but with one word the man granted him right to pass, and he stepped up into the vehicle. Behind, Ryan and Espo stood readying the doors to shut. They made eyes at Castle, all of them exchanging their own gazes of fear, pain, and fury. Just before closing the ambulance, Castle gritted out in the lowest grumble neither of them had ever heard him use, articulating exactly what they all wanted.

"_Find him._"

Both nodded curtly as the doors slammed, followed by a couple hits back to signal the driver to take off. The alarm blaring, he turned around to adjust himself, keeping out of the way next to Lanie, but still be within reach of Beckett.

Setting her up on the monitors, he knew enough to see that her vitals were plummeting. The decline clear, he yanked off her glove, clutched her hand, and folded into his, pressed against his face.

"Don't do this – don't leave me like this Kate," he muttered against her skin. In between words he kissed it, letting his mouth hover over. He wiped the free hand over his pants to smear away some blood, before using it to brush back her hair. Soft. Just as before back in the hangar, when he'd swept it away while straining to hold her down and protect her. She broke before him, under him as he silenced her for safety. She was so close to death, and it shattered every bit of him to know she was a leap closer now. Just a couple seconds quicker…

It could've been him in her stead.

He held her hand to his heart – like hers, mangled in its own right – as he looked on while grazing a cheek and her forehead with the back of his fingers. Seeing the red slightly faded on his palm and tips, he shut his eyes, the torment continuing to spill out of his blues…his blues storming as a livid sea, lamely stifled between his lids as the water leaked through. If he ignored everything, she could've been sleeping. She could've easily just been fast asleep on the bed, on the couch, somewhere else where he could take care of her. But the blare of the monitors reminded him different, and that's when the earth crumbled beneath. She was dying, crashing.

The whine of the paddles charging combined with the flatline rattled him, his shakes worsening each passing second. He had to let go of her, he knew that, but he didn't want to. Maybe he could run the risk…take the charge and see his chances. Because if he let go, he'd let go and she might go, she might leave. She might die without knowing he was there until the last moment. He couldn't abandon her. The idea terrorized him. But he couldn't.

"Clear!"

He'd dropped her just before the last few seconds, his hand gripped to his mouth and face instead as he awaited her revival. Lanie looked on him, she herself losing it at the sight of her best friend, and the man so deeply in love with her wrenched in anguish.

"We have to keep up compression, Dr. Parish–"

She jumped to sub again, leaning forward to keep on with Beckett as Castle sat, lips parted, jaw slackened and dangled in horror as she continued to pale.

"Stay with me," he begged, leaning forward again. His voice wavered, raw and underlined with fragments of his soul, fervent in his supplication. He drew near to her face, cupping her farthest cheek as he pulled out her hair tie and soothed her head with his touch, as if calming his little girl to sleep. "Just stay, stay with me, Kate. I'm here…I'm here, and…ah, god, I _love_ you–" he cracked, now barely audible. But that's all he thought, breathing it over her, vowing it even just for her ears.

_So much blood. So much. So much of her–of her–_

Drained.


End file.
